-*_J 


K  .- 


\0<?b^^tt^c>t^^7rv6L<' 


BACCALAUREATE 


AND   OTHER 


SERMONS, AND  ADDRESSES, 


BY 

EDWARD  ALLEN  TANNER,  D.D., 

Late  President  of  Illinois  College. 


WITH   A   SKETCH   OF    HIS    PRIVATE   AND   PUBLIC    LIFE,  AND 
SELECTIONS   FROM    HIS   UNPUBLISHED 
WRITINGS. 


FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY, 


CHICAGO  : 
148  AND  150  MADISON  ST. 


NEW  YORK : 
80  UNION  SQUARE  :  EAST. 


Publishers  of  Evangelical  Literature. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1892, 

BY  THE  FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


25  Ob 


2  5  a- 55 


TO    THE    MEMORY 
OF  A 

HUSBAND    AND    FATHER, 

STRONG,    TENDER    AND   TRUE, 

THIS  VOLUME 
IS    LOVINGLY    DEDICATED 

BY 
WIFE    AND    SONS    AND    DAUGHTERS. 


PREFACE. 


"  Many  a  teacher,"  said  an  eminent  divine,  "has  been  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  teachership,  perfectly  content  to  furnish 
the  materials  and  conditions  of  effective  and  conspicuous 
activity  to  other  minds  and  to  rest,  himself,  in  obscurity  as  they 
went  forth  to  prominence."  Thus  Socrates  waited  to  speak 
through  Plato.  Thus  Gamaliel  invested  himself  in  Paul.  Even 
the  Teacher  of  Teachers  left  to  his  disciples  the  promise  of 
"greater  works"  than  His. 

Such  is  the  rule,  not  without  pathos,  of  the  true  teacher's  life. 
"Can  it  be,"  asked  a  gatherer  of  statistics,  some  months  ago, 
"that  President  Tanner  has  never  published  any  of  his  writings  ?'' 
Except  upon  requests  of  newspaper  and  magazine  editors,  he 
never  had. 

Yet  a  man  yearns  for  a  monument  of  that  sort.  Step  into  a 
library,  visit  an  unfrequented  alcove,  and  listen  to  the  plead- 
ing of  the  volumes.  But  their  backs  are  turned  toward  the 
world, — and  the  shyness  is  mutual.  Neither  the  longing  to  be 
consulted  by  posterity,  nor  the  loving  anxiety  to  have  another 
thus  remembered,  is  sufficient  to  justify  a  book. 

Beneath  the  desire  to  honor  a  cherished  memory  and  to 
make  these  sermons  and  addresses  easy  of  access,  is  an 
earnest  belief  that  they  contain  what  will  be  of  value  to  the 
future  historian  of  American  education,  and  that  their  publica- 
tion -will  renew  and  extend  the  quiet  influence  which  Dr. 
Tanner's  words  have  had  upon  certain  lives.  This  belief  has 
been  strengthened  by  the  expressions  of  many,  here  and  there, 
who  have  heard  him  in  the  pulpit  and  have  loved  him  in  his 
life;  even  of  some  to  whom,  in  their  mental  night  at  the  Illinois 


6  PREFACE. 

Central  Hospital  for  the  Insane,  "Chaplain"  Tanner  used  to 
bring  at  least  the  light  of  a  cloudy  day;  and  of  a  large  number 
of  young  men  for  whose  Christian  purity  and  strength  he 
labored,  first  as  "Professor,"  then  as  "President." 

All  of  the  baccalaureates  of  the  ten  years  of  his  presidency 
at  Illinois  College  are  published,  together  with  other  sermons 
and  addresses,  some  from  his  earlier  ministry,  some  from  his 
later,  one  written  even  beneath  the  on-creeping  shadow  of  his 
last  illness.  It  is  regretted  that  so  much  must  remain  in  manu- 
script. Variety  of  topic  has  been  regarded  in  putting  forth 
these  few  productions  from  the  many.  Toward  the  end  of  the 
volume,  is  a  thesaurus  of  selections  from  his  still  unpublished 
writings.  No  especial  arrangement  of  them  has  been  at- 
tempted; may  they  be  found  helpful  and  suggestive  in  leisure 
moments! 

After  all  else  was  ready  for  the  press,  a  sketch  of  "  Private 
and  Public  Life"  was  prepared,  though  with  some  hesitation. 
No  elaborate  coloring  has  been  sought.  If  we  have  kept  in 
harmony  with  the  modest  nature  of  the  man;  if  we  have  con- 
fined our  own  affectionate  estimate  to  a  true  outline  of  his  work; 
if  we  have  brought  others  to  a  better  knowledge  of  his  genuine 
and  lovable  character,  then  we  are  content. 

The  preface  of  an  English  book,  published  the  other  year, 
was  simply  a  printed  extract  from  the  author's  will,  directing 
what  disposition  should  be  made  of  his  literary  works.  If  one 
could,  in  any  way,  reproduce  those  unwritten  wills  which  lives 
attest,  our  only  prefatory  allusion  to  these  sermons  and 
addresses  need  have  been  the  speaker's  ruling  purpose  to  be 
of  service  unto  all  whom  his  words  should  reach. 

Jacksonville,  111.,  November  2gth,  1892. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE,  9 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1882,  45 

Inaugural. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1883,  59 

Samson's  Riddle. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1884,  73 

The  Colleges  of  the  Old  West. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1885,  -       91 

Christian  Energy. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1886,  105 

Character  Moulded  by  Thought. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1887,  119 

The  Coming  Half-Century. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1888,  133 

Silent  Building. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1889,  147 

The  College  as  an  Investment. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, — 1890,  166 

Moral  Supremacy. 

BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS,— 1892,  182 

Transformation  of  Character. 

"SCATTERETH,  YET  INCREASETH,"  -      196 

Proverbs  xi:  24. 

FAITH,  208 

1  Corinthians  xiii:  13. 

"  KEEP  THIS  MAN,"  -      221 

I  Kings  xx :  39,  40. 


8  CONTENTS. 

PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY,  -      233 

Galatians  vi:  5. 

SYMMETRY  IN  THE  MINISTRY.  -      247 

I  Timothy  iv:  16. 

MEMORY  AND  IMAGINATION,  260 

Philippians  iii:  13. 

REDEEMING  THE  TIME,      -  272 

Ephesians  v:  15,  16. 

KEEPING  THE  GOOD  WINE,  -      283 

John  ii:  10. 

SYMPATHY  IN  SORROW,       -  -      295 

Address  at  the  Funeral  of  James  E.  Tupper. 

A  GREAT  PHYSICIAN,  301 

Address  at  the  Funeral  of  Dr.  David  Prince. 

IMMORTALITY,  -      310 

Job  xiv:  14. 

DIFFERENTIATION  IN  EDUCATION,  *      324 

A  Practical  Application  of  the  Principle. 

CHURCH  AND  COLLEGE,       -  -      335 

Their  Relation  of  Mutual  Benefit. 

VULCAN  AND  VENUS,  -      346 

The  Union  of  the  Useful  and  the  Beautiful. 

SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM,  -  -      365 

From  an  Ethical  Point  of  View. 

EARLY  MEMORIES,  -  387 

A  Semi-Centennial  Address. 

SELECTED  THOUGHTS,  401 

Extracts  from  Unpublished  Writings. 


PRIVATE   AND   PUBLIC   LIFE. 


Edward  Allen  Tanner  was  born  in  Waverly,  111., 
Nov.  29,  1837,  having  the  distinction  of  being  the 
first  child  who  could  claim  nativity  in  the  place. 
That  father  and  mother,  brothers  and  sisters  should 
come  from  the  hills  of  New  England,  and  he  alone 
have  been  denied  the  privilege,  was  a  grief  to  the 
boyish  heart.  Says  he:  "The  first  enigma  of  life  to 
perplex  my  childish  mind  was  the  query,  why  did  not 
Providence  ordain  that  I  should  be  born  a  little 
sooner,  that  my  eyes  should  open  to  the  light  in 
Litchfield  county,  Conn.,  and  not  in  Morgan  county, 
111.?  That  mystery,  with  raven  wing  and  dismal 
croak,  overshadowed  boyhood." 

But  later  the  tone  changes  and  the  notes  grow 
triumphant — "When  one  passes  the  statue  of  Doug- 
las on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  reflects  upon 
the  state's  vast  material  resources,  so  largely  due  to 
the  little  giant's  wisdom  and  energy;  or  when  one 
climbs  the  monument  at  Oak  Ridge,  and  sits  down 
at  the  feet  of  the  colossal  figure  of  the  Great  Emanci- 
pator, and  reviews  the  past  and  forecasts  the  future;; 
or  again,  when  one  listens,  and  the  autumn  air 
vibrates  with  midsummer  lamentation  of  the  nations, 
over  the  mighty  warrior  whom  our  own  state  sent  to 
deliver  the  republic,  and  to  win  the  admiration  of 


IO  SERMONS   AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  world — who — who  would  blush  for  nativity  in 
Illinois?" 

•  Though  western  born,  through  the  ancestors  of 
Edward  Tanner  coursed  the  sturdy  New  England 
blood  that  has  been  the  sinew  and  the  steadying 
nerve  of  western  growth.  Long  years  ago  three 
brothers  settled  in  the  little  town  of  Warren,  Conn. 
Around  one  of  these  brothers,  Ephraim,  grew  a 
family  of  eight  children,  one  of  whom  afterward 
became  the  mother  of  Dr.J.M.Sturtevant,  for  thirty- 
two  years  president  of  Illinois  College,  and  another, 
Joseph  Allen,  the  father  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 

Joseph  Tanner  was  a  man  revered  by  the  people, — 
trusted  for  his  sincerity  and  even  judgment,  loved  for 
the  tenderness  and  sympathy  of  his  broad  nature- 
In  1814  he  married  Orra  Swift,  a  woman  of  strong 
sense,  keen  humor,  and  womanly  spirit,  and  their 
home  with  its  high  Christian  conversation  was  like 
the  house  of  Obed-edom  where  the  ark  of  God  rested. 
Into  this  home  with  its  atmosphere  of  love  and 
devotion  were  born  four  children,  two  boys  and  two 
girls;  the  youngest  son,  Ephraim,  dying  in  early 
boyhood. 

Then  came  the  call  from  the  far  west  for  the  true 
men  of  New  England,  and  Joseph  Tanner  and  his 
wife  recognized  God's  bidding;  and  His  hand  led 
them  away  from  comfort  and  sacred  association, 
through  long  journeying  across  dreary  prairies  unto 
a  strange  land.  Who  can  tell  of  the  mingled  emo- 
tions of  those  brave  pioneer  hearts  as  at  last,  way- 
worn and  weary,  they  stood  upon  that  lonely  spot  in 
central  Illinois  that  was  henceforth  to  be  their  home? 
"The  Range"  was  all  there  was  then  of  the  village 
known  as  Waverly — a  log  house  of  three  or  four 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE.  I  I 

rooms,  a  half  dozen  ruder  cabins,  scattered  near,  a 
a  mill  at  one  side — that  was  all.  Here  and  there  in 
the  distance  were  bits  of  timber,  but  for  the  most 
part  as  far  as  eye  could  reach  only  prairie,  prairie, 
without  sound  to  disturb  the  stillness  unless  it  was 
the  hoarse  growl  of  the  prairie  wolves.  Humble 
though  it  was,  that  log  house  was  known  for  the 
God-like  spirit  that  reigned  there,  and  as  one  by  one 
the  true  hearted  sons  and  daughters  of  Connecticut 
gathered  in  the  little  settlement,  that  home  became 
to  them  a  haven  of  rest  and  a  stronghold  of  courage. 

Two  years  after  the  coming  of  the  family  to  Illi- 
nois the  youngest  child,  Edward,  was  born.  There 
was  no  disloyalty  to  her  other  children,  if  the 
mother's  fingers  lingered  a  little  more  lovingly  over 
the  home-spun  garments  of  this  child,  or  if  there 
crept  into  the  song  she  sung  an  added  tenderness,  as 
holding  her  boy  close  she  looked,  not  on  the  hills 
and  mountain  streams  of  her  old  loved  home,  but  on 
the  billowy  motion  of  the  long  grass  on  the  un- 
bounded prairie. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  impress  of  those  early  sur- 
roundings, that  all  through  mature  years  caused  the 
heart  to  stir  whenever  the  man  watched  the  waves 
of  the  wind-swept  grass.  It  never  failed  to  call 
forth  shadowy  recollections — loved  forms  from  the 
past  and  youth's  hallowed  associations.  It  always 
seemed  a  throb  of  nature  answering  to  the  pulsa- 
tion of  the  mighty,  bearing  suggestions,  to  the 
human,  of  green  fields  somewhere,  yonder,  fanned 
by  the  wings  of  the  Celestial. 

When  six  months  old  the  boy  was  left  fatherless. 
In  his  strong  manhood  Deacon  Tanner  was  sud- 
denly stricken.  There  was  a  struggle.  Life  was 


12  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

sweet;  visions  of  the  future  of  the  new  country, 
around  which  his  hopes  had  centered,  arose  before 
him — and  his  wife  and  baby  boy — what  of  them? 
But  faith  cried  at  last  triumphant,  "Though  he  slay 
me  yet  will  I  trust  in  him."  In  the  father's  house, 
before  the  birth  of  the  boy,  the  Congregational 
church  of  Waverly  had  been  established.  Thus  the 
son  writes,  at  the  semi-centennial  of  the  church,  of 
that  early  home  and  the  little  band  that  worshiped 
there.  *  *  * 

"Fifty  years  have  effaced  every  trace  of  my 
father's  old  house,  in  which  the  church  was  formed. 
I  deem  it  no  small  honor,  that  the  hearth-stone  in 
my  father's  cabin  was  the  corner-stone  of  the  Con- 
gregational church  of  Waverly.  The  records  are 
not  at  hand,  but  unless  memory  is  treacherous,  there 
were  eight  charter  members,  and  every  one  of  the 
eight  was  a  relative,  either  by  blood,  or  by  marriage. 
You  will,  therefore,  pardon  the  family  nature  of  this 
communication,  and  make  due  allowance  for  pos- 
sible errors.  Had  Dr.  Sturtevant  survived  to  be 
present  on  Tuesday,  he  could  have  given  a  vivid 
picture  of  that  scene  at  'The  Range,'  fifty  years 
ago.  It  was  before  I  was  born,  and  my  father,  dy- 
ing in  my  infancy,  is  only  a  hallowed  name,  except 
that,  now  and  then,  when  going  to  the  heavenly 
Father  with  cares  and  troubles,  I  have  seemed  to 
feel  the  nearness  of  an  earthly  father,  who  was  long- 
ing to  break  the  silence  of  the  voiceless  land,  with 
words  of  love  and  cheer  for  the  child  of  his  old  age.. 

The  pressure  of  that  dying  mother's  hand  upon 
the  head  and  those  words  of  earnest  prayer  when 
the  death  damp  was  gathering,  were  often  a  check 
on  boyish  folly  and  wickedness;  and  to  this  day 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  13 

they  become  a  sweet  benediction,  whenever  the 
heart  quickens  with  a  desire  for  Christ-likeness. 

There  was  Aunt  Lucy,  of  whose  face  and  form 
memory  gives  no  picture.  But  she  was  the  literary 
member  of  the  group,  and  I  recollect  being  shown 
some  of  her  papers,  when  a  child,  and  wondering 
whether  I  could  ever  learn  to  write  such  composi- 
tions. 

I  think  that  my  brother's  wife,  sister  Lucy,  Platt 
Carter's  sister  Lucy,  entered  into  covenant  there 
before  God,  fifty  years  ago.  She  took  the  mother- 
less boy  home,  and  from  that  day  of  adoption 
treated  him  as  if  he  were  her  own  child. 

June  1 5th,  1836,  a  young  man  wrote  his  name  be- 
neath that  of  Deacon  Tanner,  and  began  his  training 
in  the  service  of  the  church — the  Theodore  Curtiss, 
who  had  been  a  deacon  so  long,  and  from  whose 
hands  only,  should  I  be  willing  to  receive  the  bread 
and  the  wine,  June  I5th,  1886. 

There  is  another  signature,  that  of  a  beloved 
sister,  who  has  been  lingering  for  months  on  the 
border  line  which  separates  the  two  worlds,  but 
who,  through  the  unwearied  attention  of  a  faithful 
physician,  through  the  loving  care  of  many  friends, 
through  the  sleepless  devotion  of  her.  husband  by 
day  and  by  night,  and  through  God's  over-ruling 
providence,  has  been  spared  to  complete  the  halt 
century. 

There  was  that  younger  sister,  the  flower  of  the 
family,  of  whom  I  can  recall  a  single  vanishing 
vision  of  beauty. 

The  last  of  the  group  became  her  husband.  He 
was  older,  but  it  was  a  happy  marriage.  And, 
though  she  was  taken  hence  more  than  forty  years 


14  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ago,  he  has  remained  faithful  to  her  memory.  He 
has  attained  to  four-score,  a  most  lovable  old  man. 
It  was  my  privilege,  only  the  other  day,  to  conduct 
worship,  at  the  family  altar  which  he  and  that  sister 
set  up  in  the  long  ago.  Said  he  to  another  after- 
ward: '  I  grow  more  and  more  homesick  for  the 
presence  of  my  wife  in  heaven.' 

So  much  for  the  church  of  1836.  You,  brother 
Hobbs,  may  read  this  in  public,  and  then  correct 
any  mistakes  into  which^I  may  have  fallen  concern- 
ing the  charter  members.  You  will  also  tell  the 
story  of  the  intervening  half  century.  Would  that  I 
could  be  there,  to  listen  to  your  mention  of  many 
whom  I  have  most  highly  esteemed.  • 

Pardon  a  word  for  1886,  a  word  concerning  my 
father's  life-long  friend,  'Uncle  Homer  Curtiss.'  It 
was  kindly  ordered  that  I  should  be  at  Waverly, 
the  night  before  he  died,  and  that  I  should  receive 
from  him  the  last  token  of  recognition  given  to  any 
one  on  earth.  Two  or  three  of  us  were  standing  by 
the  bedside.  The  son  who  has  kept  the  fifth  com- 
mandment, as  has  no  other  of  all  my  acquaintance, 
could  get  no  response.  Said  he:  'It  is  too  late.'  I 
tried  at  first,  in  vain;  but,  finally,  the  weary  spirit 
seemed  to  wing  its  way  back.  I  mentioned  my  name 
and  asked  if  he  knew  me.  There  was  an  attempt  to 
say  yes,  with  a  clasp  of  the  hand.  I  repeated  a  few 
words  of  the  23d  Psalm,  and  asked  whether  they 
were  still  sweet?  Another  attempt  to  say  yes,  and 
another  clasp  of  the  hand.  Said  I:  'Uncle  Homer, 
will  you  take  a  message  of  love  over  to  your  old 
friend,  my  father,  on  the  other  side?'  No  voice, 
but  a  gentle  pressure  of  the  hand,  and  the  weary 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC   LIFE.  l£ 

spirit  fluttered  across  the  line  of  communication  be- 
tween the  audible  and  the  inaudible. 

It  was  the  ist  of  May.  That  is  usually  a  gala  day. 
I  never  before  entered  a  graveyard,  on  that  day; 
but  I  spent  an  hour  last  May  Day  alone,  in  your 
cemetery. 

There  was  something  in  the  sweeping  of  the  wind 
through  the  grass  which  recalled  the  pathos  of 
Tennyson's  '  May  Queen.'  I  read  many  of  the  half- 
forgotten  names,  so  familiar  in  boyhood.  I  lingered 
around  the  monuments  of  Sackett  and  Brown,  and 
the  tablet  of  Salter;  but  I  found  myself  drawn  back, 
time  and  again,  to  two  mounds  without  monument 
or  name,  the  one  mound  low  and  matted  over  with 
flowering  myrtle,  the  other  heaped  high  with  yellow 
clay.  And  I  sat  down  there  awhile,  with  no  one  near 
but  God,  and  in  silent  worship,  gathered  the  flower- 
ing myrtle  from  my  father's  grave  and  scattered  it 
reverently  upon  the  grave  of  'Uncle  Homer.' 

And  the  closing  words  of  the  '  May  Queen,'  with- 
out regard  to  age,  or  sex,  or  circumstances,  were  as 
a  hymn  to  the  heart. 

'  Forever  and  forever  with  these  just  souls  and  true, 

And  what  is  life  that  we  should   moan,  why  make  we  such 

ado? 

Forever  and  forever,  all  in  a  blessed  home, 
And  there  to  wait  a  little  while,  till  you  and  others  come. 
To  lie  within  the  light  of  God,  as  we  lie  together  at  last, 
And  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at 

rest.'" 

During  the  few  years  that  passed  before  she,  at 
the  age  of  fifty-two,  was  called  away,  the  mother 
bravely  tried  to  fill  the  father's  place.  She  was  one 
of  a  little  band  of  women  who  used  to  meet  to  pray 
together  for  their  children,  and  when  she  died  she 


1 6  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

left  her  child  to  their  care  and  prayers.  To  the 
power  of  his  mother's  petitions  and  her  dying  appeal 
for  him  the  man  of  middle  age  bears  witness.  "Out 
of  the  scenes  of  earliest  boyhood,  rises  one  recol- 
lection, brighter  and  holier  than  any  other.  It  is 
that  of  a  mother's  last  prayer.  It  was  not  so  much 
anxious  as  earnest  and  confident.  The  things  that 
had  been  'kept  and  pondered  in  the  heart'  found 
voice,  a  voice  borne  on,  by  white  wings,  over  years 
of  carelessness,  of  folly,  and  of  great  sinfulness, 
and  here,  this  morning,  above  the  altar  of  God, 
dwelling  not  upon  wealth  and  honor,  but  craving 
and  expecting,  for  the  speaker,  a  closer  grapple  with 
temptation,  a  gradual  subjugation  of  the  lower 
nature,  more  love  for  men,  more  complete  Christ- 
likeness.  Thus  noiselessly  but  steadily  does  the 
mother's  ideal  shape  the  future  of  the  child." 

An  orphan  at  six,  a  new  country,  a  veiled  future — 
such  was  the  vista  that  opened  before  the  lonely 
boy  as  he  turned  away  from  the  lonely  grave,  but 
the  God  of  his  fathers  never  forsook  him.  Tenderly 
He  led  the  boy  up  to  manhood,  sometimes  by 
thorny  paths,  but  always  leading,  until  there  was 
another  grave  and  father  and  mother  and  son  were 
together  again,  all  parting  past. 

The  years  following  his  mother's  death,  when  he 
lived  during  the  winter  schooling  with  his  sister, 
and  in  the  summer  helped  in  simple  tasks  on  the 
farm  of  his  brother  Elisha,  gave  tone  to  all  his  after 
life.  The  lonely  struggle  of  the  sensitive  heart,  the 
yearning  for  the  father  and  mother  love,  that  the 
tenderness  and  kindness  of  the  brother  and  sister 
could  not  quite  satisfy,  called  forth  that  strong 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE.  17 

element  of  sympathy,  so  marked  a  characteristic  of 
his  manhood. 

As  a  child  he  was  thoughtful,  studious,  shrinking, 
yet  fond  of  boyish  sports,  and  possessed  of  a  strong 
vein  of  humor  which  often  found  outlet  and  which 
one  little  incident  will  serve  to  illustrate.  One 
night,  when  five  or  six  years  old,  his  nephew  of 
about  his  own  age  was  with  him.  For  two  hours 
they  had  been  telling  each  other  stories,  till  finally 
the  voices  from  the  trundle-bed  grew  drowsy  and 
Edward  said:  "Come  on,  Allan,  let's  say  our  prayers 
and  go  to  sleep."  "Oh,"  replied  the  other,  "I've 
said  mine  long  ago."  "Better  say  them  again,"  was 
the  response,  "God's  forgot  'em  by  this  time." 

In  1849  a  larger  world  opened  before  him.  With 
his  brother  he  went  to  Springfield,  but  before  two 
years  had  passed  his  heart  was  again  torn,  for  the 
much-loved,  big-hearted  brother  moved  to  Oregon 
leaving  the  boy  once  more  upon  the  border  of  the 
untried.  With  aching,  homesick  heart  the  thirteen- 
year-old  boy  came  to  Jacksonville  to  enter  the  pre- 
paratory department  of  Illinois  College.  For  six 
years,  until  his  graduation  in  '57,  he  made  his  home 
with  the  family  of  his  cousin,  President  Sturtevant, 
spending  his  vacations  with  his  sister  in  Waverly 
and  his  brother-in-law  in  Springfield.  He  threw  him- 
self heartily  into  college  life  but  his  reserved,  timid 
nature  made  him  shrink  from  general  society,  and 
during  these  years  he  gave  full  play  to  his  natural 
taste  for  reading,  building  a  broad  literary  foundation 
for  the  work  of  his  after  life. 

Meanwhile  his  religious  life  was  quietly  devel- 
oping. Of  his  own  conversion  he  says:  "I  can 
point  to  no  sudden  transition  from  darkness  to 


1 8  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

marvelous  light.  When  asked  for  my  spiritual 
birthday  I  cannot  give  it.  The  whole  subject  is  in- 
volved in  confusion.  And  the  best  that  I  can  say 
for  myself  is,  that  I  hope  that  when  the  books  are 
opened  there,  and  the  recording  angel  gets  down  to 
my  name,  he  will  assure  me  that  there  can  be  no 
mistake  about  it,  that  I  am  certainly  my  Father's 
child." 

There  was  a  period  of  doubt  when  those  vexed 
questions  concerning  God  and  the  Bible  that  have 
been  a  stumbling-block  to  hundreds  of  others,  con- 
fronted him.  But  year  by  year  these  shadows 
disappeared  until  in  his  maturity  faith  grew  grandly 
simple.  It  was  this  experience  in  his  own  life  that, 
ever  after,  gave  him  sympathy  with  those  likewise 
troubled.  He  seldom  argued  on  such  questions.  If 
they  came  from  egotism  he  never  noticed  them. 
If  they  were  the  burdens  of  a  sincere  soul  he  would 
throw  what  light  he  could  upon  dark  places,  then 
he  was  wont  to  say,  "My  friend,  let  these  things 
which  you  cannot  understand  rest  awhile;  let  the 
rest  of  the  Bible  go,  take  the  Gospel  of  John  and 
follow  your  Master  as  you  see  Him  there,  and  after 
awhile  these  other  things  will  have  taken  care  of 
themselves."  The  Gospel  of  John  is  referred  to  as 
is  no  other  book  of  the  Bible,  in  his  sermons.  It 
was  the  exposition,  the  sum  substance  of  all  he 
longed  for  in  his  own  life. 

The  four  years  after  graduation  pass  by  in  pano- 
ramic swiftness.  There  was  one  year  spent  near  his 
old  home  at  Mud  Prairie  and  Farmingdale,  teaching 
for  twenty-five  dollars  per  month,  "boarding  around." 
Then  followed  a  year  as  assistant  in  the  seminary  at 
Waverly,  another  as  principal;  then  one  in  the  pub- 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE.  1C) 

lie  schools  of  Jacksonville,  until  the  call  came  to  the 
Latin  professorship  in  the  Pacific  University  at 
Forest  Grove,  Oregon.  In  the  meantime,  from  the 
academy  in  Jacksonville  to  her  Waverly  home,  a 
young  maiden  had  returned,  full  of  ambitious  hopes, 
and  it  came  to  pass  that  in  advanced  studies  the 
seminary  teacher  became  the  young  girl's  tutor,  and 
over  the  intricacies  of  Latin  and  Greek,  instructor 
and  pupil  found  themselves  confronting  questions 
more  intricate  still — deep  as  life  itself. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  a  physician  who,  for  the 
love  he  had  borne  the  father,  ever  felt  for  the  son  a 
tender  interest,  but  "  when  there  came  over  the 
youth  that  human  longing  which  none  escape,  and 
he  went  to  the  old  doctor  about  it,  how  nervously 
the  young  man  watched  the  latter  break  sticks  over 
the  blade  of  his  pen-knife,  till  that  awful  silence  was 
broken  by  a  delightful  little  speech  about  '  the  hand 
of  Divine  Providence '  in  the  affair  in  question." 

The  next  year  the  pupil  became  the  principal's 
assistant  in  the  seminary,  and  before  long  it  became 
known  that  the  relationship  would  never  be  broken, 
that  all  through  life  the  woman  would  give  herself 
to  the  work  of  the  man,  cheering  his  pathway,  shar- 
ing his  burdens.  Those  were  bright  days,  golden 
days  of  a  romance  that  did  not  end,  when  one  sum- 
mer day,  in  1861,  amid  the  blooming  of  June  roses, 
Edward  Allen  Tanner  and  Marion  Brown  became 
husband  and  wife.  A  separation  from  home,  friends, 
and  a  long  ocean  voyage  followed;  then  a  sojourn 
of  four  years  in  Oregon — years  of  pecuniary  strug- 
gle, years  full  of  experience,  years  of  joy  inter- 
mingled with  sadness,  for  death  cast  its  shadow  and 
their  first  born,  a  promising  boy  and  the  pride  of 


2O  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

their  hearts,  was  suddenly  taken.  They  laid  him 
away  to  rest  on  the  hillside,  where  Mt.  Hood  in 
white-crowned  grandeur  cast  her  stately  shadows. 

Those  were  primitive  days.  No  costly  marbles 
adorned  that  quiet  city  of  the  dead,  but  upon  one 
little  grave  was  a  wooden  cross  with  name  and 
date,  and  the  story  the  passer-by  read  between 
letters  carved  by  a  father's  sorrowing  hand  was 
eloquent  with  love.  The  child  that  slept  there  held 
ever  a  sacred  place  in  the  father's  heart.  Years 
after,  he  writes  to  his  wife  from  the  East,  "  These 
Massachusetts  hills  keep  recalling  the  hills  of 
Oregon,  and  I  find  myself  thinking  very  often  of 
the  face  of  the  little  boy  whom  we  buried  out 
yonder.  His  face  comes  back  to  me  quite  distinct- 
ly, just  as  it  looked  when  I  drew  him  around  in 
the  yard,  the  afternoon  before  he  died.  With  what 
strange  tenderness  the  heart  reaches  out  into  the 
invisible!" 

While  engaged  in  his  work  as  professor,  the  study 
of  theology  was  quietly  carried  on  alone,  until  the 
course  was  finished  and  a  license  to  preach  was 
granted.  At  the  close  of  the  war  the  young  man 
was  tendered  the  professorship  of  Latin  in  his  alma 
mater.  The  call  was  accepted,  and  with  wife  and 
baby  daughter  he  journeyed  back  to  Illinois,  to  take 
up  his  life  work  in  the  college.  For  seventeen  years 
he  held  the  chair  of  Latin.  In  some  respects  it  was 
the  most  care-free  period  of  his  life.  He  was  always 
busy.  In  addition  to  his  work  in  the  college,  he 
carried,  for  fourteen  years,  until  he  was  called  to  the 
presidency,  that  of  the  chaplaincy  of  the  Hospital 
for  the  Insane,  carefully  preparing  one  sermon  each 
week.  Yet,  when  shouldering  the  responsibilities  of 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  21 

a  college  executive,  he  used  to  speak  of  these  days 
as  the  play  days  of  his  life. 

The  strong  domestic  tastes,  which  in  his  young 
orphan  life  had  known  no  outlet,  found  full  sweep 
in  his  own  home.  He  was  always  the  near  com- 
panion of  his  children,  adapting  himself  to  them,  in- 
teresting himself  in  whatever  engaged  them,  sympa- 
thizing with  them  in  their  little  troubles.  During 
the  long  summer  vacations,  when  health  made  it 
necessary  for  him  to  resort  to  camp  life  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Superior  and  in  the  regions  of  the 
trout  streams,  he  writes  letters  to  them,  charming  in 
their  descriptions  of  camp  life,  fresh  with  the  touch 
of  nature,  and  to  be  remembered  for  the  serious 
thoughts  interwoven.  In  one  letter,  full  of  humor, 
he  says,  "  I  have  thought  very  often,  this  Sunday 
morning,  about  my  boy  being  by  and  by  a  fisher  for 
trout,  and  then,  a  few  years  later,  a  fisher  for  men." 
And  again  he  writes:  "  I  don't  like  this  being  so 
cut  off  from  you,  but  I  think  that  our  Father  will 
take  care  of  us  all.  I  want  you  to  love  Him  and 
serve  Him.  This  trust  in  His  watchful  love,  when  I 
am  away  from  you,  is  very  precious  to  me.  Noth- 
ing else  would  make  me  so  happy  as  to  know  that 
you  were  trying  to  please  Him  day  after  day.  I 
want  you  to  be  as  dear  to  Him  as  you  are  to  me; 
and  you  three  that  are  oldest  are  old  enough  to  do 
His  will  in  children's  ways,  in  little  things,  if  not  in 
big  things.  But  I  would  not  lecture  you  too  long; 
I  would  have  you  look  on  this  being  a  Christian,  not 
as  a  doleful  subject,  but  as  something  bright  and 
beautiful." 

Like  sunbeams  playing  over  the  receding  path  of 
childhood  are  the  bright  memories  of  days  often 


22  SERMONS  AND    ADDRESSES. 

spent  in  the  woods,  when  the  father,  throwing  aside 
work,  gave  himself  to  the  pleasure  of  the  hour,  wan- 
dering with  his  children  among  trees  and  through 
thickets,  as  happy  and  care  free  as  they. 

Gradually  the  flock  outgrew  the  little  house  on 
Grove  street,  and  a  new  home  was  built  on  College 
Hill.  In  its  care  the  owner  enlisted  his  children's 
interest.  Often  in  the  desire  to  help,  their  willing 
but  blundering  fingers  doubled  the  work;  but  their 
efforts  were  lovingly  commended  and,  without  their 
knowledge  if  possible,  the  mistakes  patiently  reme- 
died. Yet  there  was  a  something  that  forbade  un- 
due familiarity.  His  fine  control  over  a  tempera- 
ment naturally  impetuous  and  high  strung  com- 
manded respect.  He  was  always  just,  always  firm. 
Punishment  with  him  was  rare,  but  when  it  came  his 
authority  was  not  questioned.  Once  there  was  an 
act  of  subterfuge  and  it  proved  the  first  and  only  at- 
tempt. For  some  misdemeanor  two  of  the  children 
had  been  sent  to  the  study  while  the  father  made 
his  way  to  the  inevitable  peach  tree.  It  occurred  to 
them  that  prayer  would  be  the  most  effective  and 
the  only  thing  that  might  touch  him.  and  avert  the 
coming  event.  At  once  they  got  down  upon  their 
knees.  As  they  heard  his  step  upon  the  stair  their 
childish  hearts  beat  faster,  but  they  prayed  on. 
With  face  still  pale,  but  with  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  twitching,  he  waited  upon  the  threshold  for 
awhile,  then  quietly  suggested  that  the  praying  be 
done  a  little  later  on. 

As  the  children  grew  older  the  relationship  be- 
came even  closer  and  more  confidential.  He  was 
the  elder  brother  also.  To  one  of  them,  whose 
heart  was  sore  under  a  first  and  genuine  attack  of 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE. 


23 


homesickness,  he  thus  sympathetically  writes:  "  I 
remember,  as  if  it  were  only  yesterday,  how  distress- 
ingly homesick  I  was  the  first  time  I  went  to  stay 
among  strangers.  I  have  wished  a  hundred  times 
that  I  could  spirit  you  back  to  the  old  house,  and 
shield  you  from  all  cares  and  perplexities.  It  has 
been  a  revelation  of  what  God  means  when  He  says, 
'  As  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  piti- 
eth  those  that  fear  Him.'  I  have  caught  myself 
saying,  in  the  midst  of  the  anxieties  which  multiply 
around  these  later  years,  '  Can  it  be  that  you  really 
feel  toward  me  as  I  do  toward  my  heavy-hearted 
child?'  And  then  I  turn  things  around  the  other 
way.  I  am  sure  that  these  experiences  will  be  good 
for  you,  and  that  you  will  see  it  all  by  and  by.  And 
so  I  am  made  more  confident  that  I  have  God's  sym- 
pathy in  disagreeables  which  must  be  somehow  best 
for  me.  Comfort  yourself,  then,  with  the  thought 
that  you  are  confirming  your  old  father's  faith. 
Cling  to  Him  that  is  sympathetic  and  strong.  I 
have  got  a  great  deal  of  comfort,  the  last  few  days, 
out  of  the  words,  '  I  am  with  you  always ' — not 
sometimes,  my  child,  but  '  always.'  " 

Such  a  life  glows  with  inspiration.  If  in  the 
hearts  of  wife  and  children  faith  has  been  drawn 
heavenward,  by  invisible  cords,  until  they  have 
gained  some  faint  conception  of  a  Heavenly  Fa- 
ther's sheltering,  loving  kindness,  it  is  by  beautiful 
interpretation  through  an  earthly  father,  who,  great 
in  little  things,  put  aside  self,  and  with  a  patient, 
tender,  sympathetic  care,  watched  over  those  he 
loved. 

Edward  Tanner  was  a  lover  of  nature  in  all  her 
phases.  The  mountains  and  the  ocean  waves,  the 


24  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

sky,  the  birds,  the  trees,  whatever  it  might  be, 
gave  him  some  fresh  thought  that  sooner  or  later 
found  voice.  How  often,  during  the  long  summer 
evenings,  he  would  sit  on  the  veranda,  in  the  grow- 
ing twilight,  with  head  thrown  back,  looking  off  at 
rare  bits  of  scenery  visible,  and  then  up  at  the  great 
forest  trees  he  loved  so  well, — his  children  by  adop- 
tion,— and  through  their  foliage  up  to  the  stars 
beyond,  till  those  seeing  him  thus,  felt  it  almost 
desecration  to  speak  lest  words  might  mar  the 
vibratory  wave  between  the  soul  of  the  finite 
and  the  soul  of  the  infinite.  And  then,  they, 
seeing  in  the  daily  walk  and  life,  growing  patience 
and  sweetness  pf  character,  knew  these  silent 
times  with  nature  were  to  him  mounts  of  trans- 
figuration. In  the  hurried  movement  along  life's 
pathway  he  was  never  too  busy  to  pause  and  listen 
for  the  messages  of  these  voiceless  agencies.  No 
film  of  sordid  worldliness  dimmed  spiritual  vision. 
Nature  always  won  from  him  a  tender  reverence. 
For  him  she  never  lost  her  heavenly  mission,  never 
failed  to  beckon  upward.  Once  from  the  shores  of 
the  northern  lakes  he  writes  to  his  wife,  "  I  am  enjoy- 
ing the  solitude,  listening  to  the  waves  beat  on  the 
shore,  writing  some,  reading  some,  day-dreaming  and 
thinking  some.  How  the  questions  reach  out  into 
the  far  away,  and  are  lost  in  the  haze,  like  the 
mountains  across  the  water  forty  miles  yonder. 
One  seems  so  insignificant,  until  he  remembers  that 
he  is  Our  Father's  child.  I  have  been  trying  to 
clasp  that  idea  round,  as  I  have  walked  along  the 
shore  today,  but  the  idea  is  too  big  for  little  me, 
yet  I  believe."  A  little  later  he  writes  again:  *  * 
"All  things  considered  I've  had  the  pleasantest 


PRIVATE   AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  2$ 

season  I  ever  spent  here.  There  have  not  been 
many  thrilling  adventures,  still  I  have  had  more 
even  enjoyment,  and  have  recruited  as  rapidly  as 
ever.  For  all  of  which  thanks  to  Our  Father !  I 
want  to  use  this  new  strength  for  Him,  and  you,  and 
the  children.  I  don't  read  my  Bible  much,  I  don't 
look  at  your  picture  and  the  children's  faces  very 
much,  but,  as  I  go  through  the  woods  alone,  I  talk 
to  Him  a  great  deal  and  think  of  you  all.  He  seems 
near  and  you  safe.  I  could  not  be  happy  by  myself, 
all  alone.  I  went  to  church  this  morning,  but  there 
was  not  half  so  much  worship  there  for  me,  as  I've 
enjoyed  during  this  week  in  the  forest." 

A  keen  judge  of  human  nature,  he  was  himself  as 
simple  as  a  child.  When  praise  came  to  him  it  was 
always  accepted  with  pleased  surprise.  Two  or 
three  days  before  his  death  he  was  told  that  one  who 
loved  him  had  been  praying  for  him.  The  thought 
was  sweet.  "Perhaps,"  said  he,  "'tis  a  weakness  in 
my  nature,  but  I  do  like  to  be  liked."  He  was  one 
of  the  truest  of  friends.  If  one  he  loved  ever  proved' 
disloyal  he  kept  the  hurt  hid  within  his  own  soul,, 
and  rose  manfully  above  petty  retaliation.  Perhaps 
in  the  union  of  a  deep,  earnest  sincerity  and  a  loving 
sympathy  the  greatest  power  of  the  man  lay.  If 
in  the  work  of  his  chaplaincy  he  was  successful  it 
was  largely  because  of  a  tact  which  was  the  out- 
growth of  fine  sympathy.  If  he  brought  the  lives 
of  young  men  close  to  his  own  it  was  because  they 
felt  his  own  life  pulse  to  the  warm  beat  of  their  own 
youth.  If,  by  word  or  prayer,  he  brought  comfort 
into  the  house  of  mourning,  it  was  because  he  carried 
the  sorrow  of  that  household  on  his  heart.  How  the 
burdens  of  others  wore  upon  his  own  strength,  how/ 


26  SERMONS   AND  ADDKESSES. 

they  became  a  part  of  long  sleepless  nights,  only  his 
family  know. 

In  the  summer  of  1880  the  news  reached  him  from 
Oregon,  that  his  only  brother  had  been  drowned 
while  crossing  the  river  on  his  way  to  church.  The 
shock  was  great.  There  were  no  words  spoken. 
The  living  brother,  very  quietly,  took  up  his  work 
and  went  about  his  accustomed  tasks.  But  on  his 
writing  table,  after  that,  the  pictured  face  of  the 
dead  always  stood,  as  if  the  pen  carrying  its  mes- 
sages to  other  souls,  gathered  inspiration  there.  To 
the  one  left  the  other  never  seemed  far  away.  To 
him  the  waves  of  the  darkly  rolling  river  brought  no 
dread,  for  the  light  from  the  other  side  shone  across. 

In  the  spring  of  1882  the  College  called  him  to 
the  presidency.  With  characteristic  self-forgetful- 
ness,  he  did  not  ask  whether  the  position  would 
honor  him,  but  whether  he  could  honor  the  position, 
whether  he  were  qualified  to  take  the  institution 
where  it  was  and  raise  it-  to  a  higher  plane.  There 
were  moments  of  prophecy — flash  visions  of  the 
future  and  his  part  in  that  future — but  God  kept 
back,  just  within  the  veil,  full  knowledge  of  the 
weary  struggle  toward  the  realization,  of  contact 
with  a  rude  world,  of  the  trial  for  mastery  of  the 
will  over  bodily  weakness — lest  the  soul,  courageous 
though  it  was,  should  grow  faint  with  heaviness  of 
anticipation.  After  the  determination  was  taken  he 
never  wavered.  Into  the  work  he  threw  tremendous 
nervous  energy.  It  cost  him  much — the  sacrifice  of 
literary  work  to  college  minutiae,  the  wear  and  tear 
upon  a  sensitive  nature  of  financial  solicitation,  the 
greater  separation  from  home  life — but  his  feelings 
were  not  the  question,  duty  was  plain.  During  a 


PRIVATE   A\D   PUBLIC  LIFE.  2J 

trying  business  trip  to  New  York  for  the  purpose  of 
increasing  endowment  funds,  he  writes  home:  "I 
sit  here,  looking  out  upon  the  rattle  and  rush  and 
glare  of  Broadway  and  want  the  quiet  and  dear 
faces  in  the  humble  house  on  College  Hill.  I  grow 
heavy-hearted  as  I  think  of  the  months  and  years  of 
separation  and  broken  relation,  which  must  be,  till 
this  thing  is  accomplished.  But,  if  it  be  God's  will, 
Amen." 

He  was  persistent  in  what  he  undertook.  If  plans 
failed  in  one  direction  with  fertile  resource  he  turned 
effort  into  another  channel.  The  college  situation 
was  peculiar.  Disappointments  were  often  inev- 
itable. They  wore  upon  him,  but  day  by  day  it 
became  evident  to  those  in  his  home  that  under  the 
discipline,  character  was  growing  in  symmetry  and 
strength. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  his  marriage 
business  again  compels  him  to  be  absent  from  home, 
but  a  letter,  whose  closing  words  reach  into  the 
future,  finds  its  way  back  to  his  wife.  *  *  *  * 
"How  then  about  the  golden?  Shall  we  trudge  on 
together  till  we  reach  it  here?  Amen!  if  it  be  His 
will.  But,  really,  I'd  rather  go  before  the  year  1911. 
I've  seen  so  many  old  men  linger  on,  to  be  a  burden 
to  others  and  to  public  enterprises,  that  I'd  prefer  to 
have  the  days  'shortened.'  How  much  more  de- 
sirable it  is  to  fall  in  one's  prime.  But  it  is  not  best 
to  bother  our  heads  about  that.  There  is  plenty  of 
good  work  to  do  to-day,  and  we  can  safely  leave  that 
to-morrow  to  Him  who  has  led  us  and  blessed  us 
thus  far.  Let  the  prayer  of  the  silver  wedding 
night  be:  'Lord,  we  two  would  be  together,  June 
27,  1911,  either  here,  or  yonder.'  " 


28  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Those  uttered  thoughts  have,  in  part,  been  an- 
swered. His  work  is  finished.  The  soul  was  too 
intense  for  the  body.  The  sensitive,  nervous  or- 
ganism could  not  longer  stand  the  strain.  In  the 
the  spring  of  '91  there  was  a  break-down.  But  the 
tenderness  and  strong  support  of  trustees,  the  kind- 
ness of  faculty,  the  love  of  the  College  boys,  shown 
in  delicate  and  sympathetic  ways,  and  the  watch- 
fulness of  friends,  seemed  to  call  him  back  to  life. 
The  trustees,  with  the  command  that  he  should  rest 
and  not  return  until  fully  recovered,  sent  him  away. 
As  summer  wore  on  and  strength  came,  the  old 
enthusiasm  returned.  In  the  fall,  against  expostu- 
lation, he  took  up  his  work.  College  prospects  were 
bright  and  he  was  full  of  zeal,  but  it  was  too  soon. 
In  December  he  began  to  suffer  with  violent  pains 
in  the  head,  but  he  kept  on  with  his  work,  and 
nerving  himself  for  the  effort,  delivered,  just  before 
Christmas,  a  promised  lecture,  in  Springfield.  After 
that,  though  keenly  suffering,  college  matters  were 
attended  to,  one  chapel  lecture  delivered  and  an- 
other written.  Then  the  strong  will  yielded  and  the 
disease  triumphed  that  a  few  weeks  later,  on  the 
eighth  of  February,  1892,  brought  to  a  close  his  life, 
at  the  age  of  fifty-four. 

Even  after  he  was  confined  to  his  bed,  he  planned 
for  the  College.  Finally  his  physician  told  him  he 
would  have  to  stop  and  rest  again, — that  he  must  not 
think  of  his  work  in  the  College,  or  of  the  boys. 
"Doctor,"  replied  he,  "you  might  as  well  ask  me  to 
take  out  my  heart."  Through  all  his  sickness  he 
never  complained.  His  thought  was  still  for  others. 
When  friends  sent  delicacies  to  tempt  his  appetite, 
in  a  way  that  would  cause  a  choking  of  the  throat  to 


PRIVATE   AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  29 

those  about  him,  he  would  request  that  they  be  given 
to  this  or  that  one  of  the  household.  There  was 
something  pathetic  in  his  longing  to  have  his  family 
around  him.  As  never  before  he  seemed  to  yearn 
for  affectionate  demonstration.  Said  he:  "These 
have  been  happy  days, — they  have  been  sober  days, 
but  they  have  been  happy  days,  we  have  all  been  to- 
gether." "Together?" — yes,  loving  soul, — a  few 
short  days,  then — but  faith  strains  the  ear  and  the 
notes  she  hears  bear  no  tremulo  tone,  for  they  are 
the  echoes  of  an  immortal  song  from  the  other 
shore,  together  evermore. 

One  day,  early  in  the  week  before  he  died,  there 
was  a  change  for  the  worse.  Toward  morning,  the 
following  day,  he  spoke,  to  his  elder  son,  his  last 
words  concerning  the  College.  As  his  wife  and  one 
of  his  daughters  entered  the  room  he  lovingly 
greeted  them.  "I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "I  am  wear- 
ing you  all  out."  To  the  question  whether  his  head 
pained  him,  he  answered:  "Yes,  I'm  full  of  pain,  but 
full  of  a  sweet  content,"  and  then,  weary  with  the 
effort  of  talking,  lay  quite  still.  There  was  not  a 
sound  in  the  room.  Presently  his  eyes  opened.  For 
a  little  while  he  quietly  watched  wife  and  soji,  who, 
thinking  him  asleep,  were  taking  needed  rest,  then 
for  perhaps  an  hour  gazed  toward  the  ceiling  with  a 
calm,  far-away  look  on  his  face,  as  though  thought 
were  reaching  out  into  the  invisible,  and  the  Angel 
of  Peace  were  ministering  there.  Then  sleep  came. 

Afterward,  there  were  frequent  periods  of  con- 
sciousness, and  he  seemed  to  rally,  but  it  was  the 
last  flicker  of  the  flame  before  going  out. 

About  noon,  on  Saturday,  there  was  a  sudden 
change  with  rapid  failure,  and  wife  and  children, 


30  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

looking  into  the  faces  of  those,  who  while  minister- 
ing to  the  body,  had  been  as  brothers  to  the  heart, 
knew  all  hope  was  gone.  Long  after  physicians 
thought  the  end  must  come  he  lingered  on,  with 
that  tenacity  so  characteristic  of  his  life.  Sabbath 
morning  came.  Church  bells  rang  out  upon  the  air, 
and  their  echoes  died  away.  Evening  bells  called 
to  worship,  and  yet  he  lingered  on  even  till  the 
break  of  day.  Then,  at  last,  there  was  a  long  breath 
— an  impressive  closing  of  the  eyelids,  and  the 
spirit  that  had  so  longed  for  "eternal  rest,"  was  with 
God. 

The  early  morning  light  coming  in  through  an 
eastern  window  fell  reverently  over  the  still  figure — 
the  night  shadows  had  passed  away,  and  the  Eternal 
Morn  had  dawned. 


In  the  south  wall  of  the  college  chapel  there  is 
imbedded  a  marble  slab,  upon  which,  in  plain  raised 
letters,  are  the  words,  "  Edward  Allen  Tanner,  D.  D.; 
Student,  Professor,  President."  These  words  make 
over  to  Illinois  College  thirty-three  of  the  fifty-four 
years  of  his  life.  They  speak  of  a  manhood  chiseled 
fine  by  mastery  of  self  and  devotion  to  a  cause. 

For  six  years  Edward  Tanner  was  a  student  at  the 
academy  and  at  Illinois  College,  but  he  was  a 
student  also  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  treasured 
opportunity.  In  the  class-room  were  developed  his 
habits  of  pains-taking  research.  Especially  did  he 
find  delight  in  a  finished  translation  from  the  clas- 
sics. He  was  a  thoughtful  reader  and  few  young 
men  would  follow  patiently  through  the  volumes 
which  have  been  kept  from  his  college  days,  and 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  31 

whose  pages  show  the  pencilings  of  appreciation. 
Sentiments  of  high  morality  met  a  quick  response 
from  his  sensitive  soul,  and  one  is  not  surprised  to 
read  these  words  of  a  college  class-mate's:  "I  never 
knew  a  boy  so  pure  in  heart.  During  all  my  asso- 
ciations with  him  in  hours  of  study,  recreation  and 
social  intercourse,  I  never  heard  him  give  expres- 
sion to  a  foul  thought  or  utterance  to  an  unclean 
word."  Free  from  grossness  to  a  strange  degree,  so 
common  is  it  among  young  men,  his  scholarly  taste 
was  choice.  Always  a  hard  worker,  a  double  worker 
often,  he  had  no  time  to  pile  on  the  fuel,  but  he 
despised  soft  coal,  his  books  were  invariably  anthra- 
cite; they  left  no  soot  and  the  fire  never  went  out, 
although  he  did  not  try  to  have  the  world  see  any 
flame. 

He  felt  the  warmth  from  live  thoughts  whether  in 
poetry,  history,  essay  or  philosophy.  Biography 
was  especially  dear  to  him.  He  sought  what  was 
real  in  personal  life.  He  loved  to  linger  there.  His 
own  thoughts  he  did  not  unfold  readily.  Students 
of  his  day  testify  that  when  he  was  induced  to  read 
an  essay  or  to  take  part  in  a  debate  he  always  "had 
something  to  say;"  but  when  he  did  not  feel  that  he 
had  that  "something,"  nothing  could  move  his  pen 
or  open  his  mouth.  It  was  this  shrinking  from 
rhetorical  work  which  cost  him  first  honors  in  his 
class,  and  he  never  overcame  the  diffidence  although 
there  was  a  constant  struggle.  He  never  spoke  in 
public  without  a  heavy  sinking  of  the  heart.  The 
determination  to  read  theology  came  after  he  had 
been  teaching  for  several  years,  but  he  "didn't  think 
he  should  ever  preach''  He  wanted  the  knowledge 
to  help  him  in  his  class-room,  so  he  studied  by  him- 


32  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

self  and  received  a  license  in  a  little  church  out  in 
Salem,  Oregon,  eight  years  after  graduation;  and 
'by  his  own  choice  was  ordained  later  not  in  Jackson- 
ville, but  at  the  quiet  country  church  on  Joy  Prairie. 

From  such  humble  aspirations  come  these  ser- 
mons and  addresses.  A  few  of  the  many  which 
President  Tanner  wrote  are  here  to  speak  for  them- 
selves. The  writers  of  this  sketch  do  not  feel  that 
they  need  to  praise  or  to  defend  them.  All  which 
will  be  done  is  to  mention  the  method  of  their  pre- 
paration and  the  known  sincerity  which  lay  beneath 
them. 

Whatever  power  President  Tanner  had  as  a  writer 
came  from  his  constant  and  conscientious  prepara- 
tion. Words  and  sentences  never  lay  piled  about 
him,  ready  for  use.  He  had  what  De  Quincey  wit- 
tily calls  "  a  distinguished  talent  for  silence."  Often 
did  he  sit  in  his  study  chair  by  the  hour  seeking  a 
javelin  phrase  for  thought,  even  though  he  never 
planned  to  send  it  forth  but  once  and  then  from  a 
lowly  pulpit.  Is  one  surprised  to  read  in  a  letter 
from  a  young  man  who  heard  him  often  and  was 
writing  of  his  sermons,  years  afterward,  "somehow 
they  always  stuck." 

In  the  pulpits  of  the  town -and  at  the  country 
churches,  before  the  marriage  altar  and  beside  the 
coffin,  his  figure  was  familiar.  For  fourteen  years, 
while  a  professor,  he  also  was  chaplain  of  the  Cen- 
tral Hospital  for  the  Insane,  and  during  the  ten 
years  of  his  presidency,  he  spoke  in  a  helpful,  stimu- 
lating fashion  to  the  students  of  the  college  every 
Sunday  afternoon.  Whatever  the  place,  or  whatever 
the  occasion,  there  was  always  the  same  strict  prepa- 
ration. Perhaps  the  most  touching  and  thoughtful 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE. 


33 


funeral  address  he  ever  made  was  uttered  as  he 
stood  upon  the  dirt  floor  of  a  workman's  cabin,  com- 
forting three  or  four  simple  souls.  At  the  insane 
hospital  many  a  thought  which  he  had  polished 
smooth  enough  to  glide  even  into  the  troubled 
brain,  opened  a  rift  for  rays  of  light  to  break  up  the 
inner  gloom.  That  was  reward  abundant.  Chapel 
lectures  were  something  more  than  familiar  talks. 
They  were  earnest,  but  they  were  also  finished,  and 
the  addresses  prepared  for  some  two  hundred  stu- 
dents needed  no  revision  or  addition  when  he  took 
them,  as  he  did,  right  into  the  largest  pulpits  of  the 
land,  often  to  appear  again  in  the  "  great  dailies." 
Such  work  had  its  reward.  It  gained  recognition 
from  the  churches.  Better  still,  it  told  in  the  man. 
He  not  only  learned  how  to  hold  patiently  the  dark 
lantern  of  study,  but  there  came  to  him  more  and 
more  the  flash  lights  of  thought.  The  compilers  of 
this  book,  as  they  have  read  the  sermons  written  all 
along  the  line  of  these  thirty  years  have  been  im- 
pressed with  their  steady  rise  both  in  crystalline 
beauty  and  in  sustained  strength.  To  the  younger 
reader  of  only  ordinary  abilities  they  bring  a  lesson 
and  a  quiet  inspiration.  Nature  is  truly  great  out  of 
such  materials  to  make  such  men. 

The  thoroughness  of  the  writer  was  the  thorough- 
ness of  the  man.  Even  his  penmanship  gained  in 
grace;  much  more  his  character.  He  was  genuine. 
Those  who  knew  him  best  in  the  daily  common- 
places realized  that  his  whole  life  was  in  harmony 
with  what  he  preached.  He  never  had  a  hearer 
whom  he  need  hesitate  to  face  squarely  when  utter- 
ing the  most  searching  truths  of  practical  Christian- 
ity. It  was  in  part  this  consciousness  of  moral  rec- 


34  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

titude  which  gave  him  his  power  in  the  pulpit. 
Willing  to  have  his  life  freely  "  read  of  all  men,"  he 
could  read  his  own  sermons  freely.  He  seldom 
spoke  without  notes,  but  he  always  spoke  eye  to 
eye. 

The  sympathy  of  his  words  as  well  as  of  his  man- 
ner was  intense.  He  never  uttered  platitudes.  He 
never  used  a  quotation  simply  because  it  had  a 
"literary  sound."  He  loved  his  books,  but  he  did 
not  despise  the  handiwork  of  men.  He  would  leave 
"machine  poetry"  quickly  for  the  "poetry  in 
machines."  The  exegesis  of  nature  was  also  a  con- 
stant delight;  but  especially  did  he  search  the  inner 
experiences — now  over  the  cobble-stones  of  common 
pursuits  and  disappointments,  and  now  upon  medita- 
tion's pillow,  with  such  aspirations  as"  ladder"  choice 
souls  to  heaven.  In  his  earlier  preaching  he  speaks 
of  the  difficulties  encountered  as  a  minister;  in  his 
later  preaching  he  speaks  of  the  difficulties  encount- 
ered as  a  man.  As  to  his  own  religious  thought,  he 
grew  more  and  more  firm,  but  he  could  always  honor 
those  who  differed  from  him.t  Said  he  "  I  believe  in 
a  religion  of  points  rather  than  one  of  pulp;"  but 
while  he  stuck  to  his  own  views  gratefully  as  to 
helpful  friends,  he  did  not  place  them  above  those 
of  any  other  conscientious  thinker.  He  respected 
the  minds  of  men,  but  he  had  often  found  that  when 
he  could  not  enter  them  from  his  own,  the  heart 
paths  were  still  open.  He  always  succeeded  in  get- 
ting into  touch  with  those  in  trouble  before  he  spoke 
to  them.  Some  wondered  how  he  gained  such  a 
hold  upon  the  insane.  They  should  have  seen  him 
as  he  used  to  sit  of  an  evening  upon  his  porch  and 
look  out  through  the  trees  which  for  that  purpose  he 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  35 

kept  trimmed  so  high,  toward  the  Asylum  two  miles 
away,  while  his  soul  went  out  to  those  sorrowing 
there.  "It  is  very  quiet  and  yet  what  unrest,"  he 
would  say  softly,  and  then  try  to  frame  his  words  to 
carry  that  quiet  of  nature  and  nature's  God  to  the 
troubled  minds  and  hearts.  In  his  college  talks  he  was 
thoroughly  in  sympathy  with  the  students.  He  felt 
for  them  in  their  spiritual  and  practical  difficulties 
alike.  He  had  come  that  way  himself.  Said  he 
with  some  indignation  once,  "  Let  not  those  whose 
conformity  to  orthodox  doctrines  never  required  of 
them  a  day  of  patient  toil,  never  cost  them  a  night 
of  feverish  anxiety,  pass  sentence  of  condemnation 
on  those  to  whom  it  is  the  conflict  of  weeks  and 
months  and  years  to  find  in  Jesus  the  Divine  Savior  of 
the  World."  It  was  his  joy  to  take  the  young  man, 
sinking  into  doubts,  and  lead  him  to  simplest  gospel 
truth.  "Don't  try  to  steal  a  march  upon  fame,"  he 
would  tell  those  who  sacrificed  the  Bible  for  other 
books.  "Make  politics  and  social  science  your  great 
study  and  read  your  Bible  just  enough  for  rhetorical 
purposes,  if  you  would  seek  an  early  notoriety.  But 
reverse  all  of  this  if  you  are  willing,  noiselessly, 
patiently  and  surely  to  develop  a  character  that 
shall  give  you  Christ's  love  for  eternity."  His 
preaching  to  the  students  was  wholesome,  fatherly, 
sometimes  very  plain  and  always  practical.  So  it 
was  in  every  pulpit,  and  those  who  heard  him  often 
will  understand  this  utterance  of  his  heart.  "I 
would  seek  to  fathom  the  billows  that  roll  over  the 
souls  of  men  and  women  here  and  now.  I  want  to  get 
as  near  as  I  can  to  the  coasts  of  the  land  where  you 
live.  My  heart  is  with  you,  I  want  to  reach  you." 
Said  a  student  of  a  few  years  ago,  on  leaving  a  life 


3 6  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

of  partial  dissipation  for  Christian  manhood:  "I 
had  succeeded  in  shaking  off  all  other  restraints,  but 
I  could  never  get  away  from  Dr.  Tanner's  prayers." 
His  spirit  was  truly  devotional.  Yet  he  seldom  led 
even  in  prayer  without  carefully  thinking  out  its 
form.  As  he  strove  to  get  into  the  hearts  of  men,  so 
he  sought  to  reach  the  very  heart  of  God,  and  its 
throbbings  would  at  times  seem  to  touch  the  sup- 
pliant's very  lips.  He  never  "got  away  from"  his 
own  prayers.  In  them  the  preacher  lived. 

In  the  class,  Professor  Tanner  was  quietly  enthusi- 
astic. He  required  the  students  to  work,  but  he  was 
willing  to  work  first.  He  had  a  genuine  fondness 
for  Latin  which  he  taught  in  Pacific  University, 
Oregon,  from  1861  to  1865,  and  at  his  alma  mater 
from  1865  to  1882.  His  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guage was  minute  and  complete,  and  he  had  the 
gift  of  imparting  it.  At  Illinois  College  he  was 
also  the  instructor  in  rhetoric,  and  by  his  un- 
sparing criticisms  and  by  his  own  careful  example 
he  rescued  many  a  promising  writer  from  the  danger 
of  a  slovenly  style.  But  it  was  when  he  entered  the 
field  of  mental  and  moral  science  that  he  found 
instruction  most  congenial.  Here  he  conducted  the 
class-room  work,  while  one  whom  he  loved  both  as 
physician  and  a  friend,  Dr.  Hiram  K.  Jones,  the 
Platonist  of  the  Concord  School,  delivered  weekly 
lectures.  Teacher  and  learner  alike,  President 
Tanner  found  in  this  relation  much  of  the  pleasure 
of  his  last  ten  years.  A  student  came  to  him  one 
day  with  the  complaint  that  a  certain  topic  had  cost 
him  too  much  study.  "How  many  hours?"  asked 
Dr.  Tanner.  On  receiving  the  reply,  he  put  his 
hand  on  the  fellow's  shoulder  and  mildly  said:  "I 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE.  37 

spent  three  times  as  long  yesterday  upon  that  lesson 
myself." 

It  was  seldom  necessary  for  him  to  do  anything 
to  maintain  order  in  the  recitation  room.  By  the 
clearness  and  force  of  his  unremitting  thought,  he 
kept  the  students  occupied  instead;  but,  while  he 
thoroughly  appreciated  the  occasional  humor  of 
sober  subjects  if  there  was  ever  any  trifling,  he 
needed  to  speak  but  once.  He  regarded  the  study  of 
mind,  either  human  or  divine,  as  a  sacred  privilege, 
and  his  earnestness  was  contagious.  It  was  a  great 
sacrifice  to  him,  to  devote  his  best  energies  to  the 
wasting  routine  of  his  college  executive  work,  but 
it  is  now  a  gratification  to  think  that,  his  duties  done, 
he  is  extending  his  search  for  truth  along  these  same 
lines,  with  eternity  before  him,  and  above  him  a  new 
light,  and  beside  him  a  new  associate,  the  one  who 
was  both  the  Greatest  Physician  and  the  Greatest 
Metaphysician. 

Had  Edward  Allen  Tanner  never  been  a  professor 
at  Illinois  College,  he  never  would  have  taken  its  pre- 
sidency. There  was  nothing  inviting  in  the  out- 
look. A  depleted  treasury  and  a  small  and  dis- 
heartened constituency!  Shrinkage  in  funds  and  an 
annual  deficiency  of  several  thousand  dollars,  seem- 
ingly unavoidable,  had  reduced  the  secured  endow- 
ment to  $55,000.  Is  was  a  question  whether  or  not 
to  close  the  institution  and  wait  for  a  resurrection 
which  would  probably  have  never  come.  Professor 
Tanner  said,  no.  He  loved  the  College,  and  cheer- 
fully entered  upon  the  work.  There  were  very  few 
rich  men  upon  whom  the  institution  had  any  pos- 
sible hold,  and  they  had  lost  their  confidence. 
Those  who  were  planning  large  benevolences  looked 


38  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

for  places  of  less  history  perhaps,  but  of  greater 
promise.  So  Dr.  Tanner  began  among  men  and 
women  of  moderate  means  to  build  by  their  aid  sure 
foundations  for  larger  things.  Even  in  this  effort 
he  was  constantly  baffled,  but  his  tact  was  only 
equalled  by  his  pertinacity.  He  never  angered,  but 
he  seldom  gave  up.  Nearly  half  of  his  energies  this 
past  decade  were  given  to  such  work.  It  was  a 
painful  work  to  him  and  to  those  who  understood 
him.  His  sensitive  nature  recoiled  from  such  mendi- 
cacy,  especially  as  in  repeated  cases  his  only  hold 
was  a  strong  personal  attachment,  and  he  knew  that 
niany  of  his  friends  were  doing  for  his  sake  what 
their  judgment  opposed. 

This  work  he  regarded  as  now  finished  with  the 
completion  of  the  Gymnasium  and  Memorial  Hall, 
just  a  month  before  his  death.  The  College  again 
had  possession  of  its  entire  campus.  Two  new 
buildings  stood  upon  it,  and  everything  was  in 
good  order.  The  year's  attendance  was  the  largest 
in  its  history.  The  financial  basis  was  sound,  al- 
though the  endowment  was  yet  only  $175,000. 
More  has  been  given  to  other  institutions  in  a  single 
unsolicited  donation.  Less  than  a  thousand  dollars 
had  come  to  Illinois  College  unsought,  and  no 
princely  gift  from  any  source.  But  "Illinois"  could 
claim  a  larger  list  of  donors  these  last  ten  years 
than  any  other  college  in  the  interior,  perhaps  than 
any  other  in  the  country, — hundreds  upon  hundreds. 
President  Tanner  felt  that  "the  pocket-book  connec- 
tion" was  good,  and  he  was  shrewd  enough  to  see  in 
this  fact  the  hope  for  larger  things.  And  the  larger 
things  were  on  their  way,  not  only  in  faith,  but 
also  in  promise. 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE. 


39 


But  the  educator  did  not  place  an  institution  of 
.earning  behind  the  dollar  mark,  while  recognizing 
the  importance  of  sound  business  principles.  He 
was  careful  to  promote  local  pride  and  interest,  see- 
ing in  Central  Illinois  a  grand  college  field.  He 
courted  the  common  schools  and  the  high  schools. 
He  fostered  the  enthusiasm  of  alumni  and  past- 
students  by  rousing  anniversary  occasions  upon  the 
"Hill."  Genuine  literary  excellence  was  sought  in 
the  curriculum;  and  with  the  full  knowledge  that  it 
would  work  a  temporary  disadvantage,  the  course 
of  study  was  set  side  by  side  with  the  highest  in  the 
land. 

A  Congregationalist  himself,  President  Tanner 
struggled  simply  for  a  Christian  college.  He  knew 
that  when  Illinois  College  was  falling,  it  was 
saved  as  much  by  other  churches  as  by  his  own, 
both  in  patronage  and  benevolence.  He  cheerfully 
recognized  the  reason  for  this  general  dependence; 
he  told  himself  that  Central  Illinois  was  not  the 
Congregational  stronghold  of  the  region,  and  that 
the  institution  was  not  then  in  a  position  to  draw 
much  help  from  distant  cities;  but  in  simple  fairness, 
he  insisted  that  no  fences  be  erected.  This  brought 
some  opposition  from  his  own  denomination,  but  it 
was  silent  and  only  in  a  few  cases  has  it  proved  per- 
sistent. Illinois  College  goes  on  its  way  of  Chris- 
tian harmony  with  a  helpful,  if  not  a  noisy,  support 
in  each  of  all  the  churches,  and  with  the  commenda- 
tion of  their  liberal  organs  and  of  their  liberal  men. 

Had  it  not  been  for  his  relation  with  the  board  of 
trust,  the  president  would  have  often  faltered. 
Their  attitude  toward  him  was  an  uninterrupted 
pleasure.  With  rare  tenderness,  they  were  always 


4O  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

urging  him  to  do  less  and  to  take  more.  A  com- 
plete mutual  confidence  existed,  and  he  felt  that  he 
had  not  only  the  strongest  personal  friends,  but  also 
the  wisest  advisers  in  the  field  of  education.  There 
was  no  littleness  in  his  dealings  with  the  faculty. 
He  sought  men  who,  in  part  at  least,  would  conse- 
crate themselves  as  he  had  done  to  Illinois  College; 
and  it  seemed  very  fitting  that  the  one  who  had 
come  from  the  board  of  trust  at  his  request  to  aid 
him  in  his  work,  and  who  had  been  all  those  years 
the  close  comrade  of  his  disinterested  loyalty, 
should  as  acting  president  round  out  for  him  the 
duties  of  the  unfinished  year. 

What  is  it  that  leads  man  to  abandon  self;  to  turn 
away  from  easier  and  larger  opportunities,  and  to 
cling  to  a  task  in  which  he  sees  little  of  present 
glory  for  himself;  to  be  willing  that  others  should 
overshadow  him,  while  he  stoops  to  distasteful  work 
which  he  sees  must  be  done  before  the  superstruct- 
ure of  a  great  and  lasting  institution  can  be  raised? 
Hear  again  these  inaugural  words,  and  catch  the 
answer: 

"  And,  now,  while  faith  be  unwavering,  sight  fails 
as  yet  to  bring  into  clear  outline  the  college  of  the 
future,  the  view  dissolves,  the  institution  fades  out 
for  the  moment,  and,  as  you  have  sometimes  seen 
objects  on  an  eminence  magnified  and  transfigured 
in  the  sunset,  two  men*  appear  upon  yonder  hill — two 
men  who  have  in  great  measure  shaped  the  col- 
lege of  the  past;  one  whose  cheeks  are  still  flushed 
with  the  '  Conflict  of  Ages,'  and  one  who  carries  in 
his  left  hand  the  golden  wand  of  'Economics,' 

*  Dr.  Edward  Beecherand  Dr.  Julian  M.  Sturtevant,  first  and 
second  presidents  of  Illinois  College. 


PRIVATE  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE.  41 

while  his  right  hand  grips  the  '  Keys  of  Sect,' 
which,  at  near  four-score,  he  delights  to  hurl  into 
the  face  of  St.  Peter  himself — two  men,  whose  intel- 
lectual shadows  falling  this  way  cover  the  speaker, 
and  then  lengthen  on  and  on,  till  he  cannot  discern 
so  much  as  his  own  shadow.  But  he  can  look  to- 
ward the  sunrise,  toward  the  twentieth  century,  and 
then  back  toward  your  sympathetic  faces,  and  then 
up  to  Thy  shining  face,  O  Master  divine.  Where- 
upon inspirations  come,  as  carrier  birds,  flying  over 
the  still  unopened  gates  of  the  morning,  and  the 
message  which  they  bear  beneath  their  wings  reads, 
'  Make  ready,  during  these  intervening  years,  a  fit- 
ting college  celebration  for  the  two  thousandth  year 
of  our  Lord.' " 

Willing  to  stand  beneath  the  shadow  of  predeces- 
sors! Eager  to  stand  beneath  the  shadow  of  succes- 
sors! Altruistic  purpose  of  an  unselfish  man!  Far- 
sighted  vision  of  a  Christ-like  ministry!  "There  is 
that  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth,"  is  the  theme  of  a 
sermon  recorded  here.  "  There  is  that  scattereth 
and  yet  increaseth,"  is  the  theme  of  a  life  recorded 
THERE.  And  after  its  years  of  patient  toil,  God  him- 
self said,  through  the  toiler's  own  enfeebled  lips, 
and  as  a  benediction  to  the  departing  soul,  "  It  is  a 
great  gratification  to  feel  that  one  has  been  allowed 
to  accomplish  even  a  little  for  the  future — for  some- 
one else." 

He  who  labors  thus  for  a  Christian  institution, 
humble  though  it  be,  labors  for  all  time.  He  who 
sets  beneficent  forces  at  work  in  human  character 
labors  for  eternity.  President  Tanner  did  both. 
A  dignified  college  officer,  a  strict  disciplinarian,  he 
was  as  tender  as  a  father  unto  all.  Many  a  one  in 


42  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

danger  of  moral  destruction  he  led  back  to  what  he 
effectively  told  him  he  himself  had  found  to  be  the 
wiser  and  the  better  way.  His  room  at  the  college 
and  his  study  at  the  home  are  sacred  in  many  hearts. 
Scattered  through  these  lands  are  other  men  whom 
he  has  made  more  manly — and  other  such  have  gone 
before  him  to  to  the  Imperial  Country.  While  tak- 
ing delight  in  students'  pleasures  and  pride  in  their 
achievements,  he  sought  to  develop  broad  and  gen- 
uine Christian  qualities.  Such  he  saw  to  be  the 
mission  of  the  Western  College,  that  of  the  willow 
rather  than  of  the  oak,  bending  itself  to  special 
needs,  with  the  lowly  uplift  of  personal  help,  if  not 
the  sweep  of  huge  buildings  and  endowments. 

He  longed  to  prepare  his  younger  brethren  for 
the  struggle  of  life,  to  set  before  them  real  worth 
and  usefulness  to  men  in  place  of  shadowy  ambitions. 
He  talked  to  them  at  times  about  his  own  life  and 
disappointments — wanted  them  to  learn  at  the  out- 
set just  as  he  had  learned,  through  struggle  with  self, 
to  say  "Thy  will  be  done;" — felt  the  ties  of  earnest 
brotherhood,  the  relation  growing  closer  and  more 
helpful  up  to  the  very  end.  "I  hope  I'll  be  a  little 
stronger  to-morrow,"  said  he  one  early  morning,  a  week 
before  his  death.  "  I  want  to  talk  over  with  you 
some  plans  for  helping  those  especially  who  are  work- 
ing their  own  way  through  college."  And  on  the  fol- 
lowing Sabbath,  long  after  his  last  thought  had  been 
made  known,  and  with  only  a  few  night  hours  be- 
tween him  and  the  Unbroken  Day,  the  sound  of  a 
whisper  was  heard,  but  even  a  wife's  eager  ear  could 
catch  only  three  feeble  words:  "College — boys — 
bell—" 

Was   he   thinking   of  the    morrow's   message   of 


PRIVATE  AND   PUBLIC  LIFE.  43 

that  college  bell?  Was  he  already  listening  to  its 
measured  ringing  as  it  later  called  the  students 
to  recitation  room  and  house  of  God,  there  to  re- 
ceive the  last,  silent  teaching  of  one  who  had 
"worked  his  own  way"  through  life?  And  with  his 
spirit  out  upon  that  ocean  which  "rolls  round  all  the 
world,"  goes  this  receding  tide  of  an  untold  yearning 
such  as  had  borne  him  on  to  self-sacrifice  from  the 
time  he  chose  his  working  place  on  College  Hill  till 
the  time  he  entered  his  resting  place  at  Diamond 
Grove. 

An  old  college  tower  in  the  distance;  a  grave  at 
our  feet!     Between  them  a  whole  life  of  devotion! 


INAUGURAL    BACCALAUREATE. 

MAY  28,  1882. 

"  I  sat  down  under  his  shadow,  with  great  delight." — Solo- 
mon's Song  ii  :  3. 

Shadows  of  blessing  gladden  the  world. 

Imponderable  agencies  are  among  the  mightiest 
forces  that  govern  in  nature  and  life.  Seas  and 
mountains  may  charge  and  discharge  the  clouds* 
filling  plains  with  plenty,  and  making  rivers  for 
the  transportation  of  wheat  and  corn;  but  all  along 
from  Homer  to  Wordsworth,  they  have  likewise  been 
giving  wings  to  the  imagination  and  revelations  to 
the  soul.  New  York  awakes  to  her  responsibility) 
realizing  at  length,  that  Niagara  has  another  mission 
to  the  East,  than  the  driving  of  saws  and  spindles 
and  looms;  while  California  proclaims  in  the  valley  of 
the  Yosemite,  that  greed,  with  grimy  hands,  shall 
not  smut  the  bridal  veil  of  the  West.  Man  must 
have  bread,  but,  in  the  higher  ranges  of  his  being,  he 
can  not  live  on  bread  alone.  Often  an  emanation 
seems  more  than  the  bodily  substance;  the  residuum 
may  be  gross,  the  volatile  essence  ethereal. 

Beneath  the  open  firmament,  visible  forms  are 
shapes  of  speechless  matter;  but  they  diffuse  an  in- 
tangible something,  under  which  we  sit  down  with 
great  delight,  getting  a  hint  of  the  old  bard's  mean- 
ing when  he  sang  "I  will  abide  under  the  shadow  of 
the  Almighty." 

With  this  passing  glance  at  the  realm  where  God 
alone  is  Creator,  and  where  the  air  is  full  of  sugges- 


46  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

tions  of  benevolence,  we  turn  to  human  organiza- 
tions, and  find  there  the  same  general  law  of 
influence,  producing,  however,  now  one  result  and 
now  another,  according  as  good  or  evil  is  predom- 
inant in  motive.  Here  shadows  of  bane  often  sad- 
den the  world.  The  most  obtrusive  fact  in  society 
is  the  combination  of  labor  and  capital.  Marvellous 
effects  greet  the  eye.  Judging  the  present  by  the 
past,  comparing  material  prosperity  with  material 
prosperity,  we  are  ready  to  declare,  that  the  millen- 
nium can  not  be  far  away.  But,  creeping  alongside, 
comes  that  shadow  of  dread,  the  despair  of  our 
social  science,  issuing  from  the  antagonism  of  the 
factors,  that  now  ill-concealed  antipathy,  now  des- 
perate struggle,  between  money  and  muscle,  brain 
and  brawn. 

Next  transfer  the  idea  from  the  Cosmos  of  God 
and  the  Babel  of  the  common-work-a-day  world, 
to  the  quiet  republic  of  letters.  There,  likewise,  the 
same  principle  is  all-pervasive. 

There  are  two  methods  of  computing  the  worth  of 
an  institution  of  learning.  The  first  employs  only 
the  rudiments  of  arithmetic.  A  knowledge  of 
simple  addition  even,  will  suffice.  This  method 
merely  inquires  how  many  acres  of  land,  what 
buildings,  what  apparatus,  how  large  a  library,  how 
much  endowment,  what  the  number  in  the  faculty,  and 
what  the  size  of  the  classes.  Given  these  data,  and 
it  will  in  a  few  moments  sum  up  the  figures  and 
tell  you  the  comparative  value  of  an  Oxford,  or  a 
Heidelberg.  There  is  no  other  of  these  items  which 
weighs  so  much  with  the  ordinary  citizen  as  the 
number  of  students.  On  that  chiefly  he  founds  his 
opinion.  But  suppose  that  we  apply  this  standard 


INAUGURAL   BACCALAUREATE.  47 

to  the  continental  universities,  and  mark  the  result. 
According  to  statistics,  the  students  in  the  universi- 
ties of  Russia  outnumber  those  in  the  universities  of 
Belgium,  Holland  and  Switzerland  combined.  Those 
in  the  universities  of  Spain  outnumber  those  in  the 
universities  of  England  and  Scotland.  Those  in  the 
universities  of  Italy  outnumber  those  in  the  univer- 
sities of  Germany. 

But  where  are  the  institutions  that  have  shaped 
the  higher  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  mankind? 
Where  are  the  institutions,  under  the  shadow  of 
which  the  world  has  sat  with  great  delight,  for  four, 
and  six,  and  eight  hundred  years? 

No  one  would  for  a  moment  think  of  turning  to 
Russia,  or  Spain,  or  Italy,  for  an  answer.  Only  in 
countries  where  free  though  and  free  speech  are  en- 
couraged, from  generation  to  generation,  can  the 
genius  of  learning  assert  its  most  beneficent  power. 
Wherever  spiritual  despotism  reigns,  filling  chairs  of 
instruction,  and  regulating  curricula,  the  barren 
speculations  of  the  schoolmen  will  be  substituted 
for  the  vital  questions  of  the  day,  and,  though  great 
numbers  may  be  assembled  for  study,  enthusiastic 
devotion  unto  truth,  for  her  own  dear  sake,  will  be 
unknown,  and  youthful  energy  and  zeal  will  be  per- 
verted, to  the  support  of  hoary  forms  of  superstition. 

Let  such  be  the  ruling  spirit,  and,  no  matter  what 
the  acquisition,  the  prevailing  influence  must  be 
baleful,  calculated  to  hinder,  rather  than  to  promote 
the  noblest  civilization.  Even  in  the  other  coun- 
tries mentioned,  the  shadows  cast  have  not  always 
been  shadows  of  blessing.  When  in  the  middle 
ages,  the  universities  there  expelled  Jesus  Christ, 
they  became  a  curse  to  mankind.  Mind  and  soul 


48  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

were  belittled  and  degraded.  The  dwarfing  of  intel- 
lect and  the  corruption  of  morals  kept  even  pace 
down  the  centuries.  There  was  no  dawning  of  a 
better  era,  till  More  and  Erasmus  and  Colet  entered 
Oxford,  Greek  Testament  in  hand,  proclaiming 
within  those  courts  the  "Christianity  of  Jesus  and  his 
Apostles,"  elevating  again  to  its  old  place  above  in- 
structor's desk,  in  recitation  room  and  lecture  room, 
the  form  of  the  crucified,  and  writing  afresh  upon 
the  very  walls,  "Hear  ye  Him."  And  Cambridge 
responded  to  Oxford.  And  then  Reuchlin  aroused 
Heidelberg  with  the  same  message,  making  both 
Greek  and  Hebrew  testify  once  more  of  Jesus,  at 
that  ancient  seat  of  learning.  And  Luther  heard  in 
the  cell  at  Erfurt.  And  Zwingli  heard  upon  the 
mountains  of  Switzerland.  And  the  Reformation 
was  accomplished. 

But  institutions,  like  individuals,  have  a  bent  to- 
ward evil  and  the  universities  of  Germany  and  of 
England  have  not  escaped  this  tendency  in  the  igth 
century.  Having  once  swung  from  superstition  to 
faith,  their  next  rebound  was  respectively  toward 
rationalism  and  agnosticism.  The  former  is  correct- 
ing itself,  the  latter  still  struggles  toward  ascend- 
ency. That  spirit  of  destructive  criticism  which 
brooded  over  Germany  twenty-five  years  ago,  pro- 
nouncing its  emphatic  nay,  nay,  alike  upon  the 
myths  of  paganism  and  the  miracles  of  the  gospels, 
yields  little  by  little,  and  learns  to  utter  its  yea,  yea, 
concerning  the  wonders  of  the  New  Testament. 

Thoughtful  men  are  anxiously  watching,  to  see 
whether  the  English  universities  will  break  away 
from  the  spell  which  is  cast  over  them,  by  the  union 
of  a  materialistic  philosophy  with  materialistic 


INAUGURAL   BACCALAUREATE.  49 

science,  knowing  that,  till  that  alliance  is  dissolved, 
the  silent  influence  of  Cambridge  and  Oxford  must 
be  anti-Christian. 

Turning  to  our  own  system  of  higher  education, 
we  find  the  intuitional  philosophy  in  conflict  with 
materialistic  science,  the  former  as  yet  superior,  but 
the  latter  making  desperate  fight,  and  seeking  to 
ally  with  itself  the  state  universities  against  the  dis- 
tinctively Christian  colleges. 

Thus  far  in  American  history,  the  latter  have  been 
beneficent  forces.  Besides  the  mental  training 
given,  without  making  creed  or  dogma  prominent, 
though  noiseless  and  unobtrusive,  they  have  stood 
among  the  mightiest  moral  agencies  in  the  nation. 
There  is  no  prospect  that  there  will  be  any  general 
revolution  in  the  outer  form  of  the  system.  The 
relative  proportions  of  the  curriculum  are  not  to  be 
greatly  altered.  History  and  local  conditions  will 
introduce  new  departments.  Illinois  may  need 
some  educational  features  not  required  in  Massa- 
chusetts. Improvement  and  enlargement  will 
accompany  increased  resources.  Catalogues  will 
show  more  distinguished  men  in  the  faculties  and 
longer  class  lists.  Teachers  will  teach  the  same 
things,  but  more  of  them,  and  with  more  thorough- 
ness, and  students  will  graduate  with  higher  attain- 
ments. Yet,  when  we  turn  to  the  indirect  influence 
of  our  colleges  in  the  future,  prophecy  loses  some- 
what of  its  confidence,  for  there  is  stealing  in  upon 
all  these  institutions  an  insidious  spirit  of  secularism, 
peculiarly  American.  The  oldest  and  strongest  suf- 
fer most,  but  the  weakest  do  not  escape.  What 
shall  the  shadow  be?  This  is  the  impending  ques- 
tion: Shall  the  genius  of  liberal  learning  henceforth 


50  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

prove  intensely  secular,  or  profoundly  religious?  But, 
some  one  exclaims,  would  you  have  the  college  as- 
sume the  functions  of  the  theological  seminary?  By 
no  means.  The  offices  of  the  two  are  distinct.  Keep 
them  separate.  Still  confine  the  study  of  dogma 
and  formulated  creeds  to  the  schools  of  divinity. 
In  college  work  the  age  of  Augustine  would  be  a 
wretched  substitute  for  the  age  of  Augustus.  The 
change  might  seem  to  smack  more  of  piety,  but  it 
would  cause  grievous  loss  in  the  direction  of  schol- 
arly culture.  The  secret  of  good,  or  evil,  is  hidden 
in  the  undertone  which  pervades  the  institution, 
that  mysterious  something  which  speaks  day  after 
day  through  x  and  y,  and  Alpha  and  Omega,  and 
classic  story  and  chemical  formula,  and  Barbara  and 
Celarent.  Let  it  never  be  forgotten,  that  these  in- 
stitutions stand  as  one  great  hope  not  simply  of 
civilization,  but  of  Christian  civilization;  and  that 
they  can  realize  that  hope,  only  as  they  recognize 
the  mastership  of  Jesus.  The  richest  university, 
that  gathers  the  costliest  cabinets,  and  loads  the 
shelves  of  its  libraries  with  treasures  of  thought,  and 
calls  to  its  chairs  of  instruction  the  most  renowned 
scientists,  philologists,  and  metaphysicians,  and 
draws  to  itself  young  men  by  hundreds  and  tens  of 
hundreds,  and  yet  does  not  exalt  high  above  all 
Him  who  alone  hath  the  words  of  everlasting  life, 
out  of  those  very  things,  in  themselves  excellent,  is 
casting  an  ever  lengthening,  ever  darkening  shadow 
of  evil. 

And  the  poorest  college  that  cannot  buy  choice 
collections  of  specimens,  that  is  not  able  to  add 
every  new  volume  to  its  book  list,  that  has  to  con- 
tent itself  with  professors  unknown  to  fame  and  stu- 


INAUGURAL   BACCALAUREATE.  5  I 

dents  a  few  score  in  number,  and  yet  beholds  in  its 
teachers  and  under-graduates  an  earnest  seeking 
after  what  is  most  valuable  in  thought,  most  manly 
in  character,  most  loyal  to  the  name  of  Him  whose 
lordship  is  over  all  realms  of  matter,  all  realms  of 
mind,  all  realms  of  spirit— Christ's  College — throws 
a  lesser  shadow,  but  one  of  blessed  refreshment, 
under  which  individuals  and  communities  sit  down 
with  great  delight. 

Longfellow  makes  the  very  shadow  of  Evangeline 
the  ever  attendant  witness  of  her  beauty  and  her 
moral  power.  This  college  ideal  we  love,  and  here 
in  the  Acadian  calm  of  the  on-coming  Sabbath 
evening,  like  Gabriel  in  the  story,  we  look  up  from 
beneath  the  trees,  and  wait  and  watch  for  the  gleam 
of  a  lamp  and  a  shadow. 

And  now,  while,  though  faith  be  unwavering, 
sight  fails  as  yet  to  bring  into  clear  outline  the  col- 
lege of  the  future,  the  view  dissolves,  the  institution 
fades  out  for  the  moment,  and,  as  you  have  some- 
times seen  objects  on  an  eminence  magnified  and 
transfigured  in  the  sunset,  two  men  appear  upon 
yonder  hill — two  men  who  have  in  great  measure 
shaped  the  college  of  the  past;  one  whose  cheeks 
are  still  flushed  with  the  "Conflict  of  Ages,"  and  one 
who  carries  in  his  left  hand  the  golden  wand  of 
"Economics,"  while  his  right  hand  grips  the  "Keys 
of  Sect,"  which,  at  near  four-score,  he  delights  to 
hurl  into  the  face  of  St.  Peter  himself — two  men, 
whose  intellectual  shadows  falling  this  way  cover 
the  speaker,  and  then  lengthen  on  and  on  till  he 
cannot  discern  so  much  as  his  own  shadow.  But  he 
can  look  toward  the  sunrise,  toward  the  twentieth 
century,  and  then  back  toward  your  sympathetic 


52  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

faces,  and  then  up  to  thy  shining  face,  O  Master 
divine.  Whereupon  inspirations  come,  as  carrier 
birds,  flying  over  the  still  unopened  gates  of  the 
morning,  and  the  message  which  they  bear  beneath 
their  wings  reads,  "Make  ready,  during  these  inter- 
vening years,  a  fitting  college  celebration  for  the 
Two  Thousandth  Year  of  our  Lord."  Thus  courage 
is  gained  to  take  this  precious  trust  from  predeces- 
sors, far  superior  as  metaphysicians  and  logicians. 
Very  gracious  is  the  benediction  of  him  who  laid 
aside  the  cares  of  the  presidency  the  other  year,  but 
who  with  mental  vigor  unabated,  still  fills  a  place 
which  few  others  could  fill  so  well.  May  the  dream 
of  his  youth  be  more  and  more  the  vision  of  his  old 
age.  Most  acceptable  also  is  the  cordiality  of  one 
who  has  so  ably  borne  of  late  the  burdens  of  an 
acting  presidency,  an  exceedingly  vexatious  posi- 
tion. 

The  unanimity  of  faculty  and  board  of  trustees 
calls  for  abundant  gratitude.  The  general  sympathy 
and  co-operation  of  graduates  and  under-graduates, 
our  own  boys,  are  as  exhilerating  as  the  wine  of  life. 
Jacksonville  adopted  an  orphan  some  thirty  years 
ago.  He  had  only  a  few  dollars  and  only  very  mod- 
erate abilties.  But  his  foster-mother  has  overlooked 
his  weaknesses,  cheered  him  in  his  discouragements 
and  rewarded  his  poor  efforts  a  thousand  fold  be- 
yond their  deserts.  To  him  she  is  the  dearest  town 
in  this  wide  world,  and  what  he  longs  to  see,  expects 
to  see,  is  the  college  on  the  hill  shining  more  and 
more  as  the  crown  of  Jacksonville's  rejoicing.  The 
circle  enlarges,  incentives  multiply.  Born  in  this 
county,  so  rich  in  agricultural  resources,  the  son  of 
a  farmer,  he  is  eager  that  the  college  may  do  some- 


INAUGURAL   BACCALAUREATE.  53 

thing  more  to  dignify  and  ennoble  home  life  in  the 
country  and  aid  in  checking  this  feverish  rush  to 
the  great  centers  of  population,  which  is  an  evil  of 
the  times  and  a  source  of  danger  to  the  common- 
wealth. Illinois  College  for  Illinois,  Illinois  College 
for  the  Republic  of  Letters,  Illinois  College  for  the 
Kingdom  of  the  Christ. 

At  this  season  of  the  year  when  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  the  choice  youth  of  the  nation  are 
graduating  into  a  new  world  of  aspiration  and  en- 
deavor, all  these  institutions  themselves  seem  sum- 
moned to  examination.  Presently  will  come  from 
the  press  the  usual  demand  that  they  shall  give  an 
account  of  their  work.  The  questioning  may  vary 
in  form,  but  the  general  purport  will  be,  What  have 
you  done  to  train  and  equip  these  boys,  that  they 
may  henceforth  do  battle  like  men,  win  the  world's 
prizes  and  wear  its  laurels?  The  old  sneers  may 
be  expected.  From  certain  quarters,  once  in  a 
twelve-month,  we  are  treated  to  a  Jeremiade  over 
the  helplessness  of  the  average  graduate.  What 
will  become  of  him,  when  he  has  worn  out  the  fine 
clothes  which  fond  parents  furnished  on  commence- 
ment day,  as  they  do  a  daughter's  bridal  dress? 
What  though  the  youth  has  learned  to  court  the 
sacred  nine  on  Helicon;  the  muses  cannot  bear  the 
smell  of  machine  oil;  but  he  must  somehow  get 
down  from  Bceotia  to  business  and  learn  to  grease 
those  cogs  and  cranks  that  will  grind  him  out  his 
daily  bread. 

There  do  go  forth  from  the  halls  of  learning,  now 
and  then,  those  who  prove  conspicuous  examples  of 
threadbare  and  hungry  respectability;  but,  usually, 
they  would  have  been  just  as  threadbare  and  hungry 


54  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

had  they  stuck  to  the  three  R's  and  made  ugly  faces 
at  the  nine  muses.  The  only  difference  is,  that  the 
imbecility  of  a  college  man,  like  the  wickedness  of  a 
minister's  son,  becomes  notorious.  An  institution 
ought  not  to  be  expected  to  furnish  both  brains  and 
tuition,  as  William  Pitt  did  for  poor  George  Third. 

We  shall  hear  also  disparaging  remarks  on  the 
other  extreme.  Comparisons  will  be  drawn  in  favor 
of  self-made  men.  Illustrations  will  be  multiplied 
to  prove  that  the  high  places  of  life  are  usually  held 
by  those  who  have  none  to  thank  but  themselves  for 
their  elevation.  But,  to  learn  the  idleness  of  such 
talk,  one  has  only  to  remember  the  relative  number 
of  the  educated  and  the  uneducated,  and  then  turn 
to  the  annals  of  science,  philosophy,  medicine,  law, 
divinity  and  politics,  to  see  how  vast  is  the  advant- 
age of  disciplined  over  undisciplined  mind. 

Study  the  influence  of  the  American  college 
over  the  American  congress.  Recall  the  starred  and 
starry  names  of  house  and  senate  and  cabinet  and 
diplomacy.  What  occasion  is  there  to  blush  when 
a  college  man  and  a  college  president  steps  into  the 
place  once  held  by  Old  Hickory  and  the  Rail-split- 
ter? The  temptation  is  great  to  follow  the  line  of 
thought  suggested  by  those  who  scorn  the  higher 
learning  and  to  show  how  untenable  is  the  ground 
which  they  occupy,  even  if  no  other  tests  are  applied 
than  those  of  common  worldly  utility  and  prefer- 
ment. There  may  be  some  present  whom  such  an 
argument  only  would  influence.  There  may  be 
others  who  think  that  at  least  the  safer  form  of  dis- 
cussion. They  do  not  quite  dare  to  put  the  question 
on  the  higher  spiritual  level.  They  feel  somewhat 
as  Miles  Standish  did  when  he  walked  round  Plym- 


INAUGURAL  BACCALAUREATE.  55 

outh  Rock  and  exclaimed:  "Short  allowance  of 
victuals  and  plenty  of  nothing  but  Gospel!"  Yet, 
when  you  measure  a  Plymouth  Rock,  learn  to 
measure  it,  not  as  a  table,  but  as  a  pulpit. 

So  in  your  estimate  of  the  college  do  not  rest  satis- 
fied with  ascertaining  its  size  as  a  cog-wheel  in  the 
complicated  machine  of  American  politics.  Do  not 
confine  your  view  of  its  worth  to  the  subtlety  and 
acumen  which  it  will  impart  to  the  future  student  of 
law.  Do  not  simply  ask  whether  the  training  will 
qualify  your  son  to  investigate  more  successfully  the 
mysteries  of  medical  science — in  short,  go  farther 
than  to  inquire  whether  these  long  years  of 
study  will  develop  an  ingenious  youth  into  a 
merely  prosperous  man  of  the  world.  Make 
the  calculation  rather  from  the  shadow  which  the 
institution  casts  upon  the  character  of  your  boy. 
Will  he  come  out  from  that  shadow  by  and  by  a 
manikin,  or  a  man?  As  is  the  college  so  must  be 
the  graduate.  A  law  of  mental  and  moral  heredity 
binds  the  alma  mater  and  the  alumnus  together. 
Here  is  the  crucial  test  by  which  a  literary  institu- 
tion ought  to  stand  or  to  fall. 

I  feel  profoundly  the  importance  of  increasing 
our  endowment  fund,  of  adding  to  our  faculty  for 
some  time  to  come  every  year,  at  least  one  professor, 
who  shall  command  universal  respect  as  a  master 
mind  in  his  own  department,  and  of  thus  doubling 
very  speedily  our  present  number  of  students.  But  I 
am  far  more  anxious  that  the  money  in  the  treasury, 
like  the  old  Jewish  shekel,  may  bear  the  head  of  no 
human  Caesar,  but  simply  Aaron's  almond  rod  that 
budded  and  a  pot  of  the  manna  which  came  down 
from  heaven;  that  a  new  enthusiasm — spirit  of  God 


56  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

within  the  soul — such  is  the  meaning  of  the  old 
Greek  word — may  take  possession  of  every  in- 
structor, so  that  when  these  classes  leave  us,  year  by 
year,  we  may  sing,  as  does  the  laureate  concerning 
Arthur's  knights: 

"Well,  good  ye  are,  and  bad,  and  like  to  coins, 
Some  true,  some  light,  but  every  one  of  you 
Stamped  with  the  image  of  the  king." 

A  college  is  a  Christian  Cornelia;  her  sons  are 
her  jewels;  their  brilliancy  is  her  pride;  but  her 
mother  love  is  diviner  than  her  pride,  and,  as  she 
sends  her  boys  out  into  life,  her  most  earnest  in- 
quiry concerns  the  quality  of  their  manliness.  What 
stations  of  profit,  honor  and  power  they  are  to  fill, 
may  be  the  first  question;  yet  that  quickly  yields 
precedence  to  another — what  silent,  resistless  forces 
shall  emanate  from  character,  to  become  a  factor  in 
the  destiny  of  a  lesser  or  a  larger  world;  which 
shall  be  cast,  shadows  of  bane  or  shadows  of  bless- 
ing? 

This  affectionate  solicitude  deserves  a  grateful 
return.  In  Trevelyan's  Life  of  Macaulay  may  be 
found  these  words  concerning  the  historian's  love 
for  his  college:  "Of  his  places  of  sojourn  during  his 
joyous  and  shining  pilgrimage  through  the  world, 
Trinity,  and  Trinity  alone,  had  any  share  with  his 
home  in  Macaulay's  affection  and  loyalty.  That 
was  the  spot  where,  in  his  failing  years,  he  especially 
loved  to  renew  the  feelings  of  the  past,  and  some 
there  are  who  can  never  revisit  it  without  the  fancy 
that  there,  if  anywhere,  his  dear  shade  must  linger." 

Let  the  larger  be  the  type  of  the  smaller  this  day. 

My  Younger  Brethren: — Illinois  College,  with  fond 


INAUGURAL  BACCALAUREATE..  57 

solicitude,  forecasts  your  future  as  you  go  out  into 
the  world.  Both  success  and  failure  are  written  on 
the  far-away  horizon  of  possibility,  encircling  you 
all.  Many  fields  of  conflict  lie  between.  There  may 
be  a  few  quick  and  brilliant  victories.  Yet,  even  in 
those  danger  lurks.  Conceit  and  a  treacherous  sense 
of  security  take  possession  of  the  soul,  so  that  the  at- 
first  beautiful  blush  of  triumph  turns  by  and  by  into 
the  ugly  re'dness  and  blackness  of  mortification. 
There  will  come,  also,  defeats  not  a  few.  Shall  they 
be  Bunker  Hills  orWaterloos?  Bunker  Hill  means  re- 
newed fight,  monumental  granite,  inspiration.  Water- 
loo means  exile,  St.  Helena,  despair.  Let  not  the 
approaching  contact  with  the  real  mar  the  ideal. 
Perfect  your  ideal  and  work  toward  it  reverently. 
Catering  to  a  lower  taste  degrades  whatever  is  done. 
Said  Mendelssohn:  "When  I  have  written  a  piece  of 
music,  just  as  it  came  from  my  heart,  then  I  have 
done  my  duty  toward  it." 

American  youth  have  been  recently  hearing  the 
voice  and  reading  the  verse  of  the  apostle  of  ^Esthet- 
icism.  Oscar  Wilde,  while  exalting  this  doctrine  of 
the  shadow  in  art,  with  strange  inconsistency  decries 
it  in  literature  and  seeks  to  remove  the  latter  from 
the  domain  of  morals.  He  and  his  disciples  might 
well  give  heed  to  the  famous  composer,  who  made  a 
solemn  vow  that  he  would  never  set  immorality  to 
music;  might  well  confess  their  folly  to  the  old  Eng- 
lish bard  who  declared  that  "  He  who  would  write 
heroic  poems  must  make  his  whole  life  a  heroic  poem."' 
The  writing  of  a  heroic  poem  might  be  for  you  a 
vain  endeavor;  but  the  living  of  a  heroic  poem  should, 
be  the  sacred  resolution  of  the  hour.  Did  you  never- 
read  how  the  Peruvians  used  to  kiss  the  air  as  an  act 


58  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

of  worship,  that  thus,  at  least  their  love  might  reach 
the  gods?  Every  soul  has  its  atmosphere,  which  it 
may  fill  with  silent  benediction  for  other  souls,  and 
thus  win  the  approbation  of  Him  who  now  seeth  in 
secret  to  reward  openly  by-and-by.  Let  us  subscribe 
to  this  creed  together  to-day.  I  think  that  we  shall 
henceforth  take  a  somewhat  peculiar  interest  in  one 
another.  Just  twenty-five  years  ago  this  afternoon, 
in  the  old  brick  church  on  this  very  site,  with  my 
classmates,  I  was  standing  where  you  stand  and  lis- 
tening to  the  farewell  words  of  the  venerable  ex- 
president,  whom  you  and  I  delight  to  honor.  Twenty- 
five  years !  Silver  chord,  always  musical  with  the 
memories  of  youth!  Touch  it,  and  the  intervening 
quarter  of  a  century  vanishes  :  I  am  a  boy  again 
with  you,  one  instant  shrinking,  alarmed;  the  next 
eager,  expectant,  looking  out  into  the  untried;  then, 
as  the  sound  dies  away,  recollection  blends  with 
reality,  and  I  am  upon  the  border  of  another  untried. 
Heart  answers  to  heart:  we  see  eye  to  eye.  Let  us 
review,  as  our  last  lesson  together,  that  page  in  his- 
tory which  we  have  read  and  loved  from  childhood, 
the  page  which  tells  how  Columbus,  intent  upon  find- 
ing a  better  way  to  an  old  province,  for  the  sake  of 
his  country  and  his  Christ,  found  instead  a  new 
world. 

Whatsoever,  with  purpose  noble  and  steadfast,  puts 
keel  into  the  unknown,  will  be  guided  of  God  to 
things  which  outsphere  all  his  dreams. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS, 

BEFORE    THE    CLASS    OF    1883. 

"Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat,  and  out  of  the  strong 
came  forth  sweetness." — Judges  xiv:  14. 

The  riddle  which  vexed  the  Philistines  three  days, 
and  then  left  them  in  despair,  has  perplexed  the 
world  thirty  centuries,  and  still  finds  mankind  only 
partially  solving  its  meaning.  The  lion  did  not  bring 
food  to  Samson,  as  the  ravens  did  to  Elijah.  There 
had  to  be  a  fight  first.  Not  till  the  carcass  of  the 
slain  was  bleached  and  whitened,  did  the  victor  find 
in  it  the  honey-comb.  History  has  been  repeating 
the  story  ever  since.  Kings  have  done  little  for 
their  subjects  voluntarily.  The  vassal  has  had  to 
throttle  his  master,  to  get  increase  of  privilege. 
Not  till  aristocracy  has  felt  the  many-handed  grip 
of  democracy,  have  the  Magna  Chartas  of  liberty, 
equality  and  fraternity  been  granted.  Thus  far,  the 
mighty  of  this  world  have  not  much  more  reason  to 
take  credit  to  themselves  for  the  refreshment  of  the 
wayfaring  multitude,  than  had  the  king  of  beasts  for 
ministering  to  the  wants  of  the  hungry  Samson,  on 
the  road  to  Timnath.  The  eater  has  been  bent 
upon  getting,  instead  of  giving,  the  meat.  Still  he 
has  been  obliged,  though  sorely  against  his  will,  to 
yield  more  and  more  for  the  general  good. 

I  was  especially  impressed  with  this  idea  in  read- 
ing Knight's  Popular  History  of  England.  The 
work  does  not,  like  many  histories,  concern  itself 
chiefly  with  kings  and  queens  and  lords.  It  sympa- 


60  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

thizes  especially  with  the  Commons  and  the  com- 
mon people,  and  dwells  with  interest  upon  the  con- 
flicts between  serf  and  master,  the  weaker  baron 
and  the  stronger,  feudalism  and  monarchy,  parlia- 
ment and  crown.  You  wratch  the  slow  and  painful 
evolution  of  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  man  as 
man,  which  has  been  going  on  in  Britain  since  the 
dawn  of  the  Christian  era.  The  Englishman,  like 
the  American,  discards  "the  monstrous  creed  of  mil- 
lions made  for  one,"  and  "looks  at  the  millions  with 
another  faith,  the  faith  of  our  times."  A  Canute 
may  plant  his  chair  on  the  shore,  and  bid  the  waters 
stand  back,  but  there  is  a  mightier  powrer,  slowly 
lifting  the  tide,  and  the  king  is  forced  to  obey  the 
hoarse  voice  of  the  sea.  At  length  he  exclaims: 
"I  beg  and  command  those  to  whom  I  have  en- 
trusted the  government,  as  they  wish  to  preserve  my 
good-will,  and  save  their  own  souls,  to  do  no  injus- 
tice, either  to  poor  or  rich.  Let  those  who  are 
noble  and  those  who  are  not,  equally  obtain  their 
rights  according  to  the  laws,  from  which  no  devia- 
tion shall  be  allowed,  either  from  fear  of  me,  or 
through  favor  to  the  powerful,  or  for  the  purpose  of 
supplying  my  treasury.  I  want  no  money  raised  by 
injustice." 

Such  progress  did  equity  make  in  a  thousand 
years.  Then,  generation  after  generation,  deepens 
and  darkens  the  struggle  between  the  clownish 
Saxon  and  the  courtly  Norman,  till  concession  fol- 
lows concession,  and  the  old  feud  dies  out,  and  in 
the  blending  of  the  two  races,  England  becomes  a 
united  nation.  For  centuries  the  conflict  continues 
between  this  united  people  and  its  kings.  Reluct- 
antly the  latter  grant  right  after  right,  privilege 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  6 1 

after  privilege,  on  from  the  days  of  Runnymede  and 
treacherous  King  John.  But,  gradually,  a  better 
spirit  pervades  the  body  politic.  The  eater  is  less 
and  less  the  destroyer.  The  strength  which  he  gives 
is  imparted  more  graciously.  And  finally  a  queen 
Victoria  speaks  thus  from  the  throne:  "I  look  to 
the  protection  of  Almighty  God  for  favor  in  our 
continued  progress;  and  I  trust  you  will  assist  me 
in  upholding  the  fabric  of  the  constitution,  founded 
as  it  is  upon  the  principles  of  freedom  and  justice." 

This  brief  outline  represents  what  has  been  the 
general  course  of  events,  under  every  form  of  gov- 
ernment. At  the  outset  the  strong  have  invariably 
tyrannized  over  the  weak,  and  the  condition  of  the 
latter  has  been  ameliorated,  only  after  desperate  and 
long-continued  antagonism  between  the  governing 
and  the  governed  classes.  But,  gradually,  another 
doctrine  has  been  taking  possession  of  the  worldt 
the  doctrine  of  the  solidarity  of  human  interests,  the 
doctrine  that  the  strong  exist  for  the  sake  of  the 
weak,  as  well  as  the  weak  for  the  sake  of  the  strong. 
Meat  has  come  less  and  less  from  the  slain  eater, 
and  more  and  more  through  voluntary  surrender  by 
the  living  eater,  who  has  learned  the  joy  of  sharing 
his  portion  with  the  less  fortunate.  The  idea  is  con- 
stantly spreading,  that  the  government  exists  for 
the  sake  of  the  people,  and  not  the  people  for  the 
sake  of  the  government. 

The  call  for  rebellions  and  revolutions  diminishes 
as  the  centuries  glide  by.  Peace,  rather  than  war, 
is  the  hope  of  the  reformer.  The  Hartmans  and, 
Guiteaus  seem  more  infamous  than  the  Guy  Faw- 
keses  of  the  past.  If  the  world  ever  needed  such 
creatures  as  ministers  of  progress,  that  day  has  cer- 


62  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

tainly  gone  by.  This  is  true,  under  the  monarchy 
of  England,  the  autocracy  of  Russia,  the  imperialism 
of  Germany,  and  the  republicanism  of  France  and 
America.  Amid  conflicting  interests  we  are  called 
upon  to  check  recklessness,  and  cultivate  temper- 
ance and  self-restraint,  when  reforms  do  not  keep 
even  pace  with  our  eagerness  for  the  immediate 
breaking  of  the  millennial  dawn.  There  should  be 
great  content,  when  we  contrast  the  ancient  and  the 
modern  attitude  of  the  leading  governments  of  the 
world. 

The  present  English  House  of  Lords  is  studying 
the  question  of  the  surrender  of  its  vested  privileges 
with  a  calmness  and  an  unselfishness  hitherto  un- 
known in  the  history  of  Britain.  The  example  is 
typical  of  the  sentiment  which  is  filtering  into  all 
forms  of  civil  government.  The  eater  must  not  only 
consume,  but  also  contribute  freely  to  the  multi- 
tudes. Henry  VII  permitted  John  Cabot  and  sons 
to  sail  at  their  own  charges  in  quest  of  undiscovered 
countries,  and  then  paid  them  only  $75  for  the  dis- 
covery of  Newfoundland.  What  modern  ruler  would 
dare  to  exhibit  such  shameless  greed,  such  disregard 
of  a  subject's  claims  to  gratitude? 

In  the  next  place,  this  is  true  not  only  of  govern- 
ments as  units,  but  also  of  individuals  conspicuous 
in  administration.  Gladstone,  in  great  weariness, 
exclaimed  one  day,  "  I'm  leading  a  dog's  life." 
"  Yes,"  replied  Lord  Houghton,  "  the  life  of  a  St. 
Bernard,  which  is  spent  in  saving  the  lives  of 
others." 

How  such  an  example  relieves  the  opprobrium 
resting  upon  politics.  We  look  upon  those  who  de- 
vote themselves  to  political  life  as  giving  body  and 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  63 

soul  to  an  unprincipled,  cut-throat  fight  for  place  and 
power.  The  judgment  is  none  too  severe  in  a  major- 
ity of  cases.  The  demagogues  who  are  seen  oftenest 
and  who  talk  loudest,  when  elections  are  impending, 
deserve  their  reputations  as  temporizing  tricksters. 
But  their  notoriety  causes  us  to  overlook  that  noble 
minority,  who  may  be  found  in  legislature  and  con- 
gress, laboring  conscientiously  for  the  highest  good 
of  the  state  and  the  nation.  While  Mr.  Shallow 
Splurge  is  noisily  advocating  some  plausible  scheme 
which  shall  line  his  own  pocket  and  enrich  some  op- 
pressive monopoly,  while  he  is  drawing  the  notice  of 
the  press  and  filling  the  public  eye  and  thought, 
there  is  his  colleague,  busied  in  the  committee  room, 
quietly,  but  painfully,  mapping  out  and  perfecting 
some  great  scheme  of  general  beneficence.  As 
Americans  we  are  too  much  given  to  judging  every- 
thing from  the  floor  of  the  house.  We  let  ourselves 
be  carried  away  by  declamation;  we  are  bewitched  by 
notoriety,  rather  than  captivated  by  unobtrusive  ex- 
cellence; we  have  not  the  patience  to  go  behind  the 
scenes  and  ascertain  who,  in  genuine  patriotism,  are 
carefully  and  comprehensively  studying  the  situa- 
tion, and  maturing  plans  which  look  beyond  petty 
personal  and  party  triumphs,  to  national  peace  and 
prosperity.  There  is  an  increasing  number  of  such 
men,  who  are  doing  no  little  to  redeem  politics  from 
reproach.  The  quality  of  legislation  is  improving 
with  each  generation,  though  we  find  it  hard  to  real- 
ize the  fact.  Such  is  the  virulence  of  party  spirit 
that  an  every  day  newspaper  parade  is  made  of  the 
iniquity  of  republicanism  and  democracy,  till  we  are 
ready  to  despair  of  the  nation  in  the  hands  of  either. 
We  class  the  two  as  Sodom  and  Gomorrah;  declare, 


64  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

in  pessimistic  mood,  that  there  are  no  good  men  left 
in  either,  and  that  fire  and  brimstone  are  the  only 
remedy. 

The  case  is  not  so  bad.  If  you  unearth  the  secret 
history  of  our  first  century,  you  find  worse  rottenness, 
when  you  bear  in  mind  the  feebler  temptations,  and 
you  detect  in  the  noblest  spirits  an  obtuseness  in  the 
moral  perceptions  which  you  will  not  discover  in 
many  who  now  shape  the  affairs  of  the  nation.  Con- 
science means  more,  the  word,  ought,  weighs  more  at 
Washington  than  conscience  meant  and  the  word 
ought  weighed  a  hundred  years  ago.  Interests  are 
more  complicated,  economical  questions  have  as- 
sumed greater  magnitude,  inequalities  in  wealth  have 
multiplied,  social  problems  grow  more  perplexing, 
but  let  us  not  lose  faith  in  the  genius  of  the  republic. 

Our  hope  is  not  in  revolution  and  temporary  an- 
archy. Let  us  not  think  to  slay  the  lion,  in  the  be- 
lief that  strength  will  be  found  in  the  carcass  by  and 
by.  No :  our  strength  is  in  the  living  lion.  Good 
men  and  true  of  both  parties,  in  the  high  places  of 
power,  are  consecrating  themselves  to  the  clearing 
up  of  these  riddles,  in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the 
greatest  possible  happiness  to  every  citizen. 

Advance,  now,  to  the  second  member  of  the  text: 
"  Out  of  the  strong  came  forih  sweetness." 

Turn  from  meat  to  sweetness,  as  it  were  from 
repast  to  dessert. 

There  is  and  is  to  be  an  ever  increasing  gracious- 
ness  in  the  demeanor  of  the  strong  in  the  presence 
of  weakness  and  suffering.  This  is  one  of  the  bright- 
est characteristics  of  the  century.  The  sword  of 
Charlemagne  was  named  "Gaudiosa."  The  word 
means  "full  of  joy."  The  name  indicated  the  great 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  65 

king's  delight  in  conquest.  Though  he  was  one  of 
the  chief  agents  appointed  of  God,  in  the  early  ages, 
for  the  removal  of  anarchy  and  the  spread  of  civili- 
zation, there  was  no  tenderness  in  his  methods,  but 
only  a  fierce  satisfaction  in  triumphing  over  his  foes. 

Contrast  with  his  haughty  grandeur,  his  pride  in 
the  success  of  his  plans  for  the  pacification  of  the 
world,  with  no  care  for  the  cost  in  human  misery,  the 
attitude  of  a  Lincoln  on  the  field  of  Gettysburg;  his 
anguish  over  the  terrible  price  paid  for  the  vindica- 
tion of  righteousness.  Hear  his  testimony  to  its 
transforming  power.  "When  I  left  home  to  take  the 
chair  of  state,  I  was  not  a  Christian.  When  my  son 
died,  I  was  not  a  Christian.  But,  when  I  went  to 
Gettysburg,  and  looked  upon  the  graves  of  our  dead 
heroes,  who  had  fallen  in  defence  of  their  country,  I 
then  and  there  consecrated  myself  to  Christ."  "Out 
of  the  strong  came  forth  sweetness''  The  first  half 
of  the  text  is  Charlemagne's,  the  second  is  Lincoln's. 
The  heart,  as  well  as  the  head,  begins  to  be  swayed 
by  love. 

Recall,  also,  the  tender  messages  that  come  across 
the  sea,  those  weary  months,  from  Queen  Victoria  to 
Mrs.  Garfield.  You  find  nothing  like  them  in  the 
histories  of  the  olden  time.  The  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  court  and  capital  are  swept  away,  and  the 
widow  of  England  and  the  widow  of  the  republic 
sit  down,  side  by  side,  as  sisters  in  sorrow.  Woman- 
hood is  glorified  by  sympathy  in  the  world's  high 
places.  But  this  spirit,  which  brings  "sweetness" 
into  life,  does  not  confine  itself  to  caste  and  class. 
It  disdains  all  those  artificial  barriers  which  are  sup- 
posed to  mark  gradations  in  society.  I  read  one 
day,  during  Garfield's  prostration,  that  Dr.  Agnew, 


66  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

after  a  short  visit  to  Washington,  had  returned  to 
Philadelphia,  on  the  plea  of  necessity.  And  what 
was  the  necessity?  There  were  in  the  city  hospital, 
at  his  own  home,  two  poor  men,  who,  for  weeks,  had 
been  his  patients.  Said  he:  "The  President  does 
not  need  me.  Skillful  surgeons  are  sitting  by  his 
bedside  night  and  day;  but  those  two  crippled  me- 
chanics have  no  one  but  me  to  dress  their  wounds. 
Duty  calls  me  there."  "  Out  of  the  strong  came 
forth  sweetness."  The  Good  Samaritan  is  not  a 
mere  creature  of  the  imagination.  He  is  seen  stoop- 
ing by  the  wayside,  to  pour  in  the  oil  and  the  wine. 
This  disposition  is  not  confined  to  any  rank  or  pro- 
fession. It  is  sometimes  argued  that  out  boasted 
culture  tends  to  hardness  of  heart,  and  deadens  all 
interest  in  the  common  toils  and  troubles  of  the  mul- 
titude. This  is  so  in  some  cases.  It  can  not  be  de- 
nied that  Matthew  Arnold,  the  high  priest  of  culture, 
does  cherish  a  natural  repugnance  to  ordinary  peo- 
ple, that  he  does  treat  them  as-  boors,  and  that  he  is 
courteous  only  to  his  peers. 

It  can  not  be  denied  that  those  who  live  in  books, 
those  who,  from  their  employment,  are  removed  from 
constant  contact  with  the  multitude,  must  be  on  their 
guard  against  a  clannish  spirit.  It  is  no  less  true 
that  the  majority  of  those  who  are  said  to  belong  to 
the  literary  guild,  do  realize  the  danger,  and  guard 
against  the  temptation.  The  educated  man  to-day 
is  trying  to  get  nearer  to  the  ignorant  man  than  ever 
he  was  before.  The  brain  is  not  robbing  the  heart 
of  its  blood.  In  proof  of  the  statement,  listen  to 
such  words  as  these,  dropping  from  the  lips  of  one 
who  has  gained  a  world's  applause: 

"Without  this  fellow  feeling,  how  are  we  to  get 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  67 

enough  patience  and  charity  toward  our  stumbling, 
falling  companions  in  the  long  and  changeful 
journey?  And  there  is  but  one  way  in  which  a 
strong,  determined  soul  can  learn  it, — by  getting  his 
heart-strings  bound  round  the  weak  and  erring,  so 
that  he  must  share,  not  only  the  outward  conse- 
quence of  their  error,  but  their  inward  suffering." 
"They  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear  the  infirmities 
of  the  weak.  There's  a  text  that  wants  no  candle 
to  show  it;  it  shines  by  its  own  light.  It's  plain 
enough  you  get  into  the  wrong  road  in  this  life, 
if  you,  run  after  this  and  that,  only  for  the  sake  of 
making  things  easy  and  pleasant  to  yourself.  If 
you've  got  a  man's  heart  and  soul  in  you,  you  can't 
be  easy  a  making  your  own  bed  and  leaving  the  rest 
to  lie  on  the  stones.  I'll  never  slip  my  neck  out  of 
the  yoke  and  leave  the  load  to  be  drawn  by  the 
weak."  "All  the  anguish  of  the  children  of  men, 
which  sometimes  wraps  me  round  like  sudden  dark- 
ness, I  can  bear  with  a  willing  pain,  as  if  I  were 
sharing  the  Redeemer's  cross.  For  I  feel  it,  I  feel 
it,  infinite  love  is  suffering  too;  it  yearns;  it  mourns; 
and  that  is  a  blind  self-seeking  which  wants  to  be 
freed  from  the  sorrow  wherewith  the  whole  creation 
groaneth  and  travaileth."  That  is  a  sweeter  "sweet- 
ness" and  a  mellower  "light"  than  Matthew  Arnold 
dreams  of  and  talks  of.  That  is  the  spirit  which  is 
pervading  modern  literature  more  and  more.  It 
would  encircle  with  blessed  sympathy  all  that  suffer; 
it  would  fill  with  hope  and  exhiliration  every  dis- 
courag^d  soul  that  longs  to  rise  to  higher  life  and 
achievement. 

In  the  hall  of  Ticknor,  the  great  publisher,  there 
used  to  hang  a  picture,  representing  a  young  artist 


68  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

asleep,  worn  out  with  work  and  disappointment, 
while  a  hand  from  the  clouds  was  pouring  oil  into 
the  expiring  lamp.  It  fitly  typified  the  character  of 
the  noble  author,  his  lifelong  habit  of  encouraging 
any  downcast  youth,  who  was  tempted  to  abandon 
a  beautiful  ideal  for  a  sordid  real.  It  represents 
also  a  disposition  which  is  prevailing  throughout  the 
world  of  mind. 

The  human  race,  which  used  to  be  swayed  chiefly 
by  the  explosive  is  yielding  to  the  dominion  of  the 
effusive.  Good  things  still  come  down  from  above. 
Sufficient  illustrations  have  been  given  of  the  spread 
of  a  gentle  beneficence  in  what  are  known  as  the 
higher  walks  of  life.  It  is  slowly  leavening  all 
classes  and  conditions.  Still,  fact  lags  behind 
prophecy.  But  the  lion  and  the  lamb  are  yet  to 
lie  do\vn  together  and  be  ruled  by  the  spirit  of 
the  little  child.  This  is  written  in  the  vision  of 
Isaiah.  It  is  emphasized  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount.  It  is  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  Him  that 
"came  not  to  be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister,  and 
to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many."  It  was  the 
stress  of  that  idea  which  brought  Jesus  to  exchange 
God's  throne  for  God's  footstool.  Oh,  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  story,  of  Him  "  mighty  to  save!"  We 
recognize  and  admire  its  manifestation  in  the  Re- 
deemer. We  recognize  and  admire  its  imitation  in 
the  favored  and  the  gifted.  We  hail  it  as  the  earnest 
of  a  millenium  drawing  near.  But  how  few  of  us  are 
bringing  the  doctrine  home  for  daily  application.  We 
class  ourselves  among  the  weak,  and  not  among  the 
strong,  and  thus  seek  to  excuse  ourselves  from  duty. 
Instead  of  lifting  we  are  waiting  to  be  lifted;  instead 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  69 

of  sweetening  the  live  of  others,  we  are  expecting 
them  to  sweeten  ours. 

No  might  but  God's  is  absolute.  That  of  men  is 
relative.  The  power  of  One  only  encircles  the  uni- 
verse. What  shall  we  say  of  the  most  exalted  human 
greatness,  when  we  survey  a  pitiful  spectacle  like 
that  the,  other  year,  beneath  the  rotunda  at  Wash- 
ington, and  then  looking  up  try  to  catch  some  van- 
ishing conception  of  that  dome  of  the  infinite  where 
reigns  from  everlasting  tc  everlasting  the  "  King 
eternal,  immortal,  invisible!"  When  we  make  the 
contrast  thus  the  verdict  must  be,  "vanity  of  vanities, 
all  is  vanity."  Yet,  from  that  noble  life,  both  in  its 
vigor  and  in  its  vanishing,  has  come  to  fifty  millions 
a  sweetness  unknown  since  the  great  bitterness  of 
the  rebellion. 

Shorten  the  reach  of  thought.  Mentor,  Springfield, 
—  1865  and  1 88 1, — Lincoln  and  Garfield — strength 
and  sweetness  for  the  republic.  It  is  not  very  far 
from  Mentor  and  Springfield  to  Jacksonville."  Shall 
not  the  inspiration  travel  hither?  Here  is  no  starry 
dome  of  firmament.  Here  is  no  glittering  rotunda. 
Your  life  and  mine  may  be  vaulted  very  low,  yet  it 
has  its  outlook  of  shining  possibilities.  We  are  in- 
significant, when  placed  side  by  side  with  these  illus- 
trious names.  But  there  are  those,  in  contrast  with 
whom  we  are  strong.  With  such,  daily  association 
makes  us  very  familiar. 

Walk  up  and  down  this  weary,  suffering  world, 
with  eyes  like  Christ's.  Let  issue  from  your  lives  an 
influence  so  blessed,  that,  though  you  be  not  heralded 
as  the  great  benefactors  of  the  race,  though  your 
death  produce  no  universal  shock,  though  your  fune- 
ral train  be  humble,  though  no  splendid  mausoleum 


70  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

mark  your  final  resting  place, — there  shall  rise  to 
God  the  silent  testimony  of  sorrowing  souls  that 
you  have  comforted :  Out  of  the  strong  came  forth 
sweetness,  as  I  was  drinking  of  Marah's  bitterness. 

My  young  brethren  of  the  graduating  class :  While 
civilization  in  general  is  progressive,  the  conflict  be- 
tween labor  and  capital,  for  a  season,  wages  hotter 
and  hotter.  The  poor  grow  poorer,  the  rich  grow 
richer,  in  the  great  centers  of  population.  The  mis- 
sion of  liberally  educated  men,  during  this  genera- 
tion, should  be  to  aid  in  quieting  the  antagonisms 
of  society. 

Instead  of  standing  aloof  in  the  pride  of  superior 
culture;  instead  of  seeking,  within  learning's  secluded 
cloisters,  to  forget  the  world's  wants  and  woes;  in- 
stead of  fanning  into  flame  the  passions  of  an  igno- 
rant populace;  instead  of  selling  mind's  most  pre- 
cious gifts  to  the  highest  bidder  in  the  temple  of 
mammon,  the  alumni  of  our  colleges  should  be  the 
great  peace-makers  of  our  republic,  patiently  study- 
ing the  situation,  and  impartially  speaking,  with  the 
voice  of  authority,  as  the  heralds  of  good  will. 

The  times  demand  that  our  institutions  of  learning 
shall  give  to  the  world  more  men  of  might,  kingly 
men,  to  wield  the  sceptre  in  every  realm  of  thought. 
The  colleges  must  develop  mental  vigor  and  power. 
Recreant  to  duty  is  the  instructor  who  fails  to  make 
that  idea  ever  prominent  in  the  class-room.  But 
that  does  not  justify  the  fostering  of  an  intellectual 
aristocracy,  or  of  a  literary  class  which  shall  wall 
itself  round  with  monasticism,  or  of  an  adroit  body 
of  schemers  who  shall,  for  their  own  advancement, 
flatter  the  prejudices  of  an  illiterate  rabble  upon  the 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  71 

one  side,  or,  upon  the  other,  ally  themselves  with 
grasping  and  dangerous  monopolies. 

A  liberal  education  pre-eminently  qualifies  its  pos- 
sessors, to  act  as  blessed  mediators  among  men. 

The  commonwealth  calls  upon  its  colleges  to  pro- 
vide a  "  Third  Estate,"  wise  and  benevolent,  which 
shall  hold  the  balance  of  power,  and  devote  itself  to 
the  reconciliation  of  labor  and  capital,  the  highest 

interests  of  which  are  one  and  the  same  forever. 

****** 

Brethren,  are  you  going  from  us  with  a  hand  that 
clutches  and  shuts  up  like  the  talons  of  a  hawk ;  or 
with  an  open  palm,  eloquent  of  beneficence? 

We  have  watched  you  adding  increments  of 
strength  as  the  months  have  glided  by.  Some  of 
you  were  well  advanced  upon  the  course,  when  you 
joined  the  class  with  which  you  graduate ;  others 
have  spent  four  years  within  the  institution;  while 
others,  still,  have  struggled  gallantly  for  twice  that 
period,  to  overcome  the  pecuniary  and  physical  ob- 
stacles which  lay  between  you  and  a  liberal  educa- 
tion. Your  instructors  feel  that  they  are  not  send- 
ing forth  any  of  you  as  weaklings  in  the  struggle  of 
life.  We  anticipate,  in  every  case,  a  fair  measure  of 
worldly  success.  Congratulating  you  on  your  cred- 
itable intellectual  equipment,  we  rejoice  still  more 
in  believing  that  no  one  is  the  slave  of  those  vices 
which  brutalize  and  destroy,  that  no  one  has  at 
guaduation  a  character  less  noble  than  at  matricula- 
tion. There  is  not  a  man  among  you  who  would 
not  stand  this  afternoon  with  uncovered  head  before 
the  dignity  of  virtue  and  the  beauty  of  holiness. 

It  is  a  source  of  thanksgiving  that  a  goodly  num- 
ber depart  from  college  bearing  that  name  which  is 


72  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

above  every  other.  Pardon  loving  plainness  of 
speech;  would  to  God  that,  at  this  hour,  I  might 
strike  hands  with  you  all,  as  fellow-servants  of  Him 
whom  I  glory  in  calling  Master  and  Lord. 

That  were  the  very  best  pledge,  that  out  of  the 
college-bred  "strength,  should  come  forth  sweet- 
ness" to  the  world. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1884. 

"Every  one  over  against  his  own  house." — Nehemiah  iii:  28, 

YOUR  attention  will  be  directed  to  the  college 
application  of  the  text,  "  Every  one  over  against  his 
own  house."  The  immediate  duty  of  economists, 
patriots  and  Christians  in  the  Old  West  to  the  col- 
leges of  the  Old  West ! 

Whether  or  not  Greek  be  a  college  fetich,  the 
college  itself  is  not  an  American  fetich.  It  has  been, 
it  is,  and  it  is  to  be,  a  prime  factor  in  our  Christian 
civilization.  The  curriculum  may  be  changed,  but 
the  college  will  stand.  None  question  this  concern- 
ing the  well-endowed  institutions  of  the  East.  The 
curriculum  may  be  changed,  but  the  college  must  be 
founded.  None  question  this  concerning  the  New 
West. 

But  what  shall  be  done  in  the  Old  West?  Around 
this  inquiry  there  gathers  no  more  any  halo  of  ro- 
mance, any  enthusiasm  of  religion,  any  glamour  of 
glory.  The  subject  excites  great  confusion  of 
thought  and  speech.  First  comes  the  cry,  "  The  In- 
terior is  founding  too  many  colleges."  That  was 
true  prior  to  1870.  But  turn  to  the  last  report  of  the 
commissioner  of  education,  and  you  will  find  that, 
for  the  preceding  seven  years,  only  one  college  a 
year  had  been  founded  throughout  the  Republic. 
Ohio  is  the  state  worst  afflicted  with  college  mania. 
The  disease  has  produced  thirty-six  institutions,  but 
even  there  the  malady  is  rapidly  abating.  There 


74  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

has  been  only  one  addition  since  1875.  Not  a  col- 
lege has  been  established  in  Iowa  since  1875,  no^ 
one  in  Michigan  or  Minnesota  since  1874,  not  one  in 
Missouri  since  1873,  not  one  in  Illinois  since  1870, 
not  one  in  Wisconsin  or  Indiana  since  1867.  I  sub- 
mit it,  as  a  proved  case,  that  the  evil  is  stopped,  and 
that  there  is  now  no  further  ground  for  the  charge 
that  the  Interior  is  founding  too  many  colleges. 
That  gun  is  spiked. 

Next  is  heard  the  complaint,  "  The  Old  West 
already  has  too  many  colleges."  This  cannot  be 
denied,  if  you  grant  the  name  to  every  institution 
with  a  charter,  paying  no  attention  to  its  courses  of 
study,  to  the  number  and  attainments  of  its  faculty, 
and  to  the  amount  of  its  endowment  funds.  But  it 
would  be  an  insult  to  an  audience  like  this  to  enter 
upon  a  labored  argument  to  prove  that  these  three 
particulars  must  be  considered,  in  deciding  whether 
an  institution  has  any  right  to  its  title.  Now,  the 
eight  states  just  mentioned  constitute  the  Old  West. 
To  these  the  commissioner's  report  assigns  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-five  colleges ;  when,  however,  you 
test  them  by  curriculum,  faculty  and  funds,  not  half 
deserve  the  name  assumed.  Were  there  time,  I 
should  be  glad  to  take  these  eight  states  in  succes- 
sion, and  demonstrate  the  assertion  true  of  every 
one,  but  these  minutes  are  too  precious,  and  I  must 
therefore  confine  your  attention  to  a  single  state, 
and  let  that  speak  for  all.  Which  state  shall  it  be? 
Ohio,  on  the  extreme  east,  is  too  old  to  be  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  section.  Minnesota,  on  the  extreme 
west,  differs  from  the  rest  in  her  system  of  educa- 
tion. Missouri,  on  the  extreme  south,  is  very  unlike 

ive  of  the  others.      Illinois,  in  the  centre,  has  more 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  75 

elements  common  to  all  than  any  other.  It  is  there- 
fore the  fairest  typical  state.  To  this  it  adds  the 
crowning  advantage  of  being  the  best  known  and 
best  loved  by  the  audience. 

Begin,  then,  with  the  curriculum  test.  Of  the 
twenty-seven  so-called  colleges  in  Illinois,  there  is 
not  one  whose  standard  for  admission  is  not  half  a 
year  behind  that  of  Harvard.  Of  the  twenty-seven 
there  may  be  six  whose  standard  for  admission  is  as 
high  as  that  of  Williams,  Amherst,  Dartmouth  and 
Bowdoin.  Of  the  twenty-seven,  there  may  be  six 
others  whose  graduates  could  enter  the  senior  class 
at  Williams,  Amherst,  Dartmouth  and  Bowdoin. 
The  graduates  of  the  other  fifteen  would  be  prepared 
in  a  scattering  way  for  the  sophomore  or  junior  class 
at  Williams,  Amherst,  Dartmouth  and  Bowdoin. 
The  fifteen  are  not  colleges. 

Apply  next  the  faculty  test.  The  typical  Interior 
college,  with  three  years  for  a  preparatory  course 
and  four  years  for  a  college  course,  furnishes  daily 
twenty-one  recitations  of  an  hour  each.  Five  pro- 
fessors will  carry  twenty  of  these,  leaving  to  the 
president  one  daily  recitation,  one  sermon  on  Sun~ 
day,  the  routine  of  local  administration  and  the  gen- 
eral financial  management.  This  is  the  smallest 
faculty  that  can  do  the  regular  work  efficiently. 
There  should  be  eight  professors,  to  perform  ordin- 
ary class-rpom  duties  vigorously,  and  also  to  meet 
those  calls  for  general  literary  services,  which  a  col- 
lege constituency  is  constantly  making,  and  which 
must  be  met,  if  the  institution  would  have  its  power 
felt  far  and  wide. 

On  consulting  the  commissioner's  report  to  apply 
this  truth,  I  discovered  that  it  did  not  give  the  data 


7  6  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

needed,  as  I  compared  statement  with  statement  and 
with  my  personal  knowledge  of  particular  institu- 
tions. For  example:  an  institution  claiming  sixteen 
professors  and  instructors,  the  largest  faculty  in  the 
state,  could  not  show  a  single  endowed  professorship 
or  even  a  single  dollar  at  interest.  Moreover,  not 
long  before,  one  of  the  advertised  professors  in  the 
same  school  told  me  that  he  had  never  heard  a  reci- 
tation, never  delivered  a  lecture,  and  that  he  did  not 
know  that  he  belonged  to  the  corps  of  instruction. 

Again:  The  report  showed  the  total  income  of  the 
same  so-called  college  to  be  only  $5,000.  Deducting 
nothing  for  incidental  expenses,  which  are  always 
heavy,  and  appropriating  the  whole  amount  to  sal- 
aries, you  would  have  for  each  teacher  an  average  of 
a  little  more  than  $300  a  year.  Such  figures  need 
no  comment.  Baffled  in  the  inquiry  in  this  direc- 
tion, I  adopted  another  plan,  to  ascertain  at  how  low 
a  rate  a'  competent  faculty  of  five  professors  and  a 
president  could  be  secured.  From  correspondence 
with  the  authorities  of  ten  of  the  best  colleges  of  the 
interior,  I  found  that  the  average  salary  of  their  pro- 
fessors was  $1,400,  and  of  their  presidents,  $2,000. 

That  would  make  the  necessary  cost  for  instruc- 
tion $9,000.  From  $1,000  to  $3,000  more  would  be 
demanded  for  other  expenses.  So  that  an  income 
of  from  $10,000  to  $12,000  would  be  the  least  with 
which  respectable  college  requirements  could  be 
met.  Only  seven  of  our  twenty-seven  showed  an 
income  of  at  least  $10,000.  Only  seven,  therefore, 
had  resources  to  carry  on  college  work  creditably. 
The  candor  of  this  treatment  of  the  question  is 
manifest  from  the  statement  that  Illinois  College 
was  not  one  of  the  seven,  in  1881,  the  year  that  the 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  77 

report  was  published.  It  was  one  of  four  others 
with  an  income  of  $8,000.  Since  then,  however,  it 
has  brought  its  income  up  to  $13,000  and  is  at  length 
doing  genuine  college  work,  without  encroaching 
upon  its  endowment  funds  for  current  expenses.  So 
far  as  the  writer  knows,  the  other  three  are  in  the 
same  critical  condition  as  in  1881,  either  furnishing 
inferior  instruction,  on  their  legitimate  revenue,  or 
adequate  instruction  by  consuming  their  capital,  a 
plan  which  means  first  slow,  then  quick  suicide. 
Viewed  in  this  light,  only  from  eight  to  eleven  of  the 
twenty-seven  can  possibly  retain  a  faculty  qualified 
to  give  the  necessary  instruction,  so  as  to  command 
the  respect  and  attendance  of  young  men. 

Look  also  at  the  question  directly  from  the 
endowment  ground.  It  is  preposterous  for  an  insti- 
tution, with  no  money  at  interest,  to  lay  claim  to  the 
name  of  college  in  the  latter  part  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Yet  ten  of  the  twenty-seven  own  no  pro- 
perty except  their  site  and  buildings.  They  have  all 
been  in  existence  from  fourteen  to  thirty  years.  If, 
in  that  time,  they  have  not  been  able  to  put  a  dollar 
at  interest,  what  are  their  prospects  for  the  future? 
Six  have  endowments  ranging  from  $600  to  $50,000; 
six,  from  $50,000  to  $100,000;  and  five,  from  $100,000 
to  $360,000.  Now,  any  practical  man,  who  has  stu- 
died this  subject  patiently  for  years  in  the  Interior, 
will  say,  without  hesitation,  that  an  institution  with 
less  than  $100,000  of  endowment,  in  addition  to  com- 
fortable buildings,  is  not  safe;  that,  possibly,  one 
with  less  than  $50,000  may  struggle  up  to  respectabil- 
ity; that  between  $50,000  and  $100,000  possibility 
changes  rapidly  to  probability;  that  at  $100,000,  with 
wise  management,  the  crisis  is  past,  and  that,  when 


78  SERMONS  AND     ADDRESSES. 

an  institution  has  $250,000  in  plant  and  $250,000  at 
interest,  its  resources  are  ample  for  a  very  beneficent 
career.  Applying  this  reasoning  to  our  twenty- 
seven,  we  may  write  upon  the  charters  of  ten,  can- 
celled; of  six,  forlorn  hope;  of  six,  brightening  pros- 
pects; of  five,  victory,  now,  or  by-and-by. 

Our  three  paths  have  led  us  to  the  same  general 
conclusion,  that  less  than  half  of  the  twenty-seven 
can  live  as  colleges. 

What,  then,  shall  we  do  with  those  that  cannot? 
"  Seek  for  them  consolidation  with  the  stronger 
institutions,"  is  the  reply  most  naturally  suggested 
to  the  simply  business  man  on  the  street,  and  to  the 
mere  theorist  in  his  study ;  but  any  one  who  has  ex- 
perimental knowledge  of  the  situation  will  answer, 
"  consolidation  is  an  impossibility."  This  plan 
which  some  are  advocating  as  a  new  idea  is  a  very 
old  idea.  The  plan  has  been  tried,  time  and  again, 
for  the  last  forty  years,  and  has  proved  a  failure. 

This  doctrine  of  college  Nirvana,  the  absorption  of 
the  lesser  by  the  greater,  however  beautiful  in  the 
abstract,  refuses  to  take  concrete  form.  Every  one 
of  our  typical  twenty-seven  is  eager  to  absorb,  but 
not  one  of  the  twenty-seven  will  consent  to  be 
absorbed.  And  even  if  the  institutions  were  ready 
to  transfer  property,  give  up  name  and  surrender 
individuality,  there  would  be  insuperable  obstacles 
of  a  local,  legal  and  sectarian  nature.  Our  Metho- 
dist brehren,  whose  system  gives  them  more  con- 
trol of  their  colleges  than  has  any  other  denomina- 
tion, assure  me  that,  much  as  they  desire  union  in 
several  cases,  it  can  not  be  effected. 

We  are  not  dealing  with  an  deal  state  of  affairs. 
As  sensible  men  we  must  make  the  best  of  things  as 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  79 

they  are.  It  behooves  us  to  remember  that  we  are 
working  not  in  a  millennium,  but  for  a  millennium. 
What  then,  is  to  be  the  fate  of  these  weaker  schools? 
Extinction?  Not  in  many  instances.  They  must, 
however,  learn  to  die  as  colleges  and  live  as  acade- 
mies. The  Interior  needs  academies,  and  there  is 
•no  danger  that  they  will  be  unduly  multiplied. 
Most,  perhaps  all,  of  these  institutions  have  re- 
sources enough  to  make  them  a  great  local  blessing 
in  this  changed  relation.  So  soon  as  they  attain  to 
dying  grace  as  colleges,  they  will  attain  to  living 
grace  as  academies.  This  will  require  time.  There 
is  a  charm  about  the  name  of  college,  which  will  lead 
its  unworthy  possessors  to  cling  to  it  to  the  last. 
But,  as  the  contrast  between  their  sham  selves  and 
the  colleges  which  are  such  in  reality  becomes  more 
glaringly  manifest,  public  ridicule  will  compel  the 
adoption  of  a  less  pretentious  appellation. 

We  are  now  justified  in  dropping  from  further 
notice  on  the  present  occasion,  half  or  two-thirds  of 
our  nominal  colleges  in  the  Interior.  As  mere 
neighborhood  schools,  they  should  be  left  to  the 
care  of  the  neighborhoods  in  which  they  are  located. 
This  elimination  simplifies  the  problem.  We  find 
that  of  our  typical  twenty-seven,  eleven,  from  their 
standard  of  scholarship,  from  the  attainments  of 
their  instructors  and  from  the  amount  of  their  pro- 
ductive capital,  may  properly  be  dignified  as  col- 
leges. Of  these,  only  one,  the  Northwestern,  at 
Evanston,  is  so  amply  endowed  as  to  be  free  from 
embarrassment.  Four  have  passed  the  crisis,  but 
they  are  sadly  crippled  by  lack  of  pecuniary  re- 
sources. Six,  though  in  peril,  will  probably  survive 
the  struggle  for  existence.  What  should  be  done 


8o  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

with  the  eleven?  At  this  point,  we  encounter  some 
who  maintain  that  there  should  be  one  college,  and 
only  one  college  in  a  state.  Without  question,  every 
state  should  have  at  least  one  institution  devoted  to 
the  higher  learning.  That  is  a  state  privilege,  a 
state  right,  the  dignity  of  every  commonwealth  de- 
mands such  a  centre  of  mental  and  moral  power. 

But  is  it  not  absurd  to  claim  that  a  state  like 
Rhode  Island  should  have  as  many  colleges  as  a 
state  like  Illinois?  Rhode  Island  contains  1,000 
square  miles,  Illinois,  56,000  square  miles.  Rhode 
Island  counts  a  population  of  a  quarter  of  a  million, 
Illinois,  of  three  millions.  The  number  of  institu- 
tions should  be  decided  by  three  considerations, 
extent  and  nature  of  territory,  population  and  char- 
acter of  population.  Let  us  now  apply  these  con- 
siderations: New  England  sustains  seventeen  col- 
leges. None  of  them  could  well  be  spared.  The 
weaker  are  proportionately  as  valuable  as  the 
stronger.  The  finest  service  is  not  necessarily  ren- 
dered by  the  richest  college.  Said  ex-president 
Woolsey,  to  a  friend  of  the  writer:  "  Had  I  my  life 
to  live  over,  I  would  cast  in  my  lot  with  one  of  the 
smaller  institutions.  I  could  have  more  influence  in 
training  mind  and  shaping  character."  Said  presi- 
dent Seelye  to  another  friend  of  the  writer:  "  Our 
classes  are  growing  so  unwieldy  that  they  lessen  our 
efficiency."  It  is  better  that  the  four  thousand  col- 
lege students  proper  in  New  England  should  be 
scattered  among  seventeen  institutions,  than  that 
there  should  be  only  six  colleges  with  seven  hun- 
dred students  each.  It  is  better  for  the  young  men 
themselves.  It  is  better  for  New  England  herself. 

Now,   the   area   of   New  England    is   to   that   of 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  8 1 

Illinois  as  seven  to  six.  So  far  as  mere  territory  is 
concerned,  claiming  nothing  for  the  richness  of  our 
soil,  if  New  England  needs  seventeen  colleges  Illi- 
nois needs  fifteen.  The  population  of  New  England 
is  to  that  of  Illinois  as -four  to  three.  So  far  as  popu- 
lation is  concerned,  if  New  England  needs  seventeen 
colleges,  Illinois  needs  thirteen.  Should  exception 
be  taken  to  the  character  of  our  population,  you 
may  be  astonished  to  learn  from  the  commissioner's 
report  that  the  illiteracy,  the  inability  to  write,  in 
New  England,  between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and 
twenty,  the  college  period,  is  five  per  cent.;  while  in 
Illinois  it  is  less  than  four  per  cent.  Still  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  there  is  a  higher  culture  among  the 
upper  classes  there,  which  would  naturally  produce 
more  college  material  than  you  would  look  for  here. 
Yet  the  difference  is  not  great.  There  are  in  the 
collegiate  departments  there  four  thousand  students, 
here  two  thousand.  When,  however,  you  remember 
that  New  England  keeps  her  material  at  home  and 
also  draws  freely  from  abroad,  while  Illinois  sends 
her  material  freely  eastward  and  gets  none  in  return, 
you  will  be  convinced  that  Illinois  is  falling  but 
little  behind  all  New  England  in  the  number  that 
she  matriculates  somewhere. 

These  three  lines  of  argument  justify  the  conclu- 
sion that,  should  ^eleven  of  our  colleges  be  main- 
tained, they  would  not  be  too  numerous  for  the  pre- 
sent, much  less  for  the'  prospective  educational 
wants  of  a  state  which  will  contain  a  population  of 
four  millions  before  the  year  1900. 

Glance  now  at  the  question  of  economy.  We 
hear  a  constant  clamor  about  the  comparative  edu- 
cational extravagance  of  the  Interior.  The  large 


8  2  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

attendance  at  an  eastern  institution  is  contrasted 
with  the  small  attendance  at  a  western  institution. 
Harvard  does  have  fourteen  hundred  students  in  all 
departments,  while  the  average  attendance  in  all  de- 
partments at  Illinois  colleges  is  only  one  hundred 
and  seventy.  But  Harvard  has  one  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  instructors,  one  for  every  eleven  stu- 
dents, while  the  average  number  of  instructors  for 
Illinois  colleges  is  ten,  one  for  every  seventeen  stu- 
dents. There  is  widespread  ignorance  of  the  fact 
that  the  larger  the  number  of  students  in  an  institu- 
tion the  larger  relatively  is  the  number  of  instruc- 
tors. I  repeat  it:  Harvard  pays  one  teacher  for 
every  eleven  students,  while  the  Interior  colleges 
pay  one  teacher  for  every  seventeen  students.  The 
bearing  on  the  question  of  comparative  economy  is 
obvious. 

But  we  must  hasten  to  the  teachings  of  patriotism. 
The  Mississippi  valley  is  destined  to  be,  in  mater- 
ial resources,  the  richest  section  of  the  Union. 
Shall  it  be  abandoned,  intellectually,  as  the  Great 
American  Desert?  Shall  brain  withdraw,  giving  up 
the  Interior  to  brawn  and  bullion?  No.  Save  these 
institutions  of  liberal  learning,  to  leaven  society,  and 
to  give  tone  to  civilization.  A  region  destitute  of  col- 
leges or  possessing  colleges  so  weak  as  to  incur  gen- 
eral contempt,  will  inevitably  gfow  coarse  in  its 
tastes  and  sordid  in  its  ambitions.  But  let  there  be 
an  institution  worthy  of  the  name,  within  a  hundred 
miles  of  every  household,  and  it  flashes  vividly  be- 
fore the  mind  of  every  child  a  high  ideal  of  culture, 
character  and  life,  inspiring  parents  also  to  seek  for 
the  realization  of  that  ideal  in  those  whom  they  love. 
The  presence  of  even  these  poverty-stricken  colleges 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  83 

of  the  Old  West  has  aroused  to  a  desire  for  know- 
ledge, and  has  led  to  graduation  thousands  who,  but 
for  that  presence,  would  have  been  quickened  to  no 
such  longing,  much  less  have  been  able  to  enjoy  its 
gratification.  There  can  be  no  more  forcible  protest 
against  a  grovelling  animalism  than  the  sight  of  an 
ingenuous  band  of  youth  zealously  devoted  to  cul- 
ture and  to  all  that  gives  manhood  its  crowning 
glory. 

It  passes  comprehension,  how  men  who  owe  all 
that  they  have  and  all  that  they  are  to  a  state  like 
this,  will  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  calls  of  struggling 
institutions  near  at  hand,  and  either  do  nothing  for 
enterprises  which  bless  society  and  render  life  rich 
and  precious,  or  help  to  swell  the  endowments  of 
far  away  colleges  worth  from  one  million  to  five  mil- 
lions, and  will,  furthermore,  send  their  sons  east  to 
get  an  education,  to  come  back  full  of  contempt  for 
"  fresh-water  colleges/'  and  to  belittle  all  efforts  to 
sweeten  and  brighten  and  gladden  the  social,  mental 
and  moral  order  of  the  commonwealth. 

Citizens  of  the  Old  West  ought  to  put  both  their 
money  and  their  boys  into  the  colleges  of  the  Old 
West.  We  need  a  revolution  on  the  doctrine  of 
State's  Rights  in  Education.  In  this,  he  serves  his 
country  best  who  serves  his  state  the  best.  Train 
the  home  boy  in  the  home  college.  During  the 
formative  period,  cultivate  in  him  local  attachments, 
enthusiasm  in  whatever  pertains  to  the  honor  and 
dignity  of  his  native  state.  When  he  is  more 
mature,  if  you  would  give  him  special  studies,  which 
are  not  yet  taught  here,  or  if  you  would  make  his 
tastes  more  cosmopolitan,  let  him  have  a  post-gradu- 
ate course  of  one  or  two  years  at  the  east,  or  upon 


84  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  continent.  Thus  will  he  be  qualified  for  more 
contented,  hearty,  vigorous  citizenship  in  the  Inter- 
ior, than  if  you  should  send  him,  a  callow  youngster 
of  sixteen  or  eighteen,  to  four  years  of  exile  at  Yale 
or  Harvard. 

Religion  emphasizes  the  same  doctrine.  Under- 
mine the  Christian  college  and  you  undermine  the 
Christian  church.  Let  the  Christian  college  languish, 
and  the  Christian  church  will  languish.  If  you 
would  strengthen  the  Christian  churches  of  the 
Interior,  endow  and  patronize  the  Christian  colleges 
of  the  Interior,  binding  churches  and  colleges  to- 
gether, not  ecclesiastically,  but  spiritually,  in  the 
name  of  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Ghost.  This  ques- 
tion is  of  vital  importance  to  pew  and  to  pulpit.  The 
larger  the  educated  membership,  the  greater  the 
efficiency  of  a  church.  Religion  in  bidding  farewell 
to  learning,  degenerates  into  fanaticism. 

The  connection  of  liberally  trained  men  with  a 
church  gives  wisdom  in  council,  enriches  the  prayer- 
meeting,  incites  the  pastor  and  commands  the  res- 
pect of  the  world. 

Such  members  hold  the  balance  of  power  between 
poverty  and  wealth,  and  mediate  between  those  ex- 
tremes, which  produce  antagonism  in  religious  as 
well  as  in  social  organizations.  The  natural  way  to 
bring  these  influential  elements  into  the  home 
church,  is  to  educate  our  sons  in  the  home  college, 
where  they  will  be  trained  in  generous  sympathy 
with  the  demands  of  Christian  civilization  in  the  In- 
terior. 

The  very  smallness  of  a  college  strong  enough  to 
insure  respect,  gives  it  an  intellectual  and  spiritual 
supremacy  over  young  men,  which  the  great  univer- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  85 

sity  loses  by  its  very  greatness.  Small  classes  bring 
their  members  individually  under  the  mental  and 
religious  influence  of  consecrated  instructors,  as  is 
not  possible  where  classes  number  from  one  hundred 
to  two  hundred,  though  teachers  be  equally  earnest 
Christian  men.  Revivals  are  more  numerous,  pro- 
babilities of  conversion  are  greater,  and  the  percent- 
age of  candidates  for  the  ministry  is  much  higher,  in 
the  smaller  colleges  than  in  the  larger.  This  does 
not,  however,  prove  either  the  unsoundness,  or  the 
unfaithfulness  of  the  faculties  in  the  latter.  It  grows 
out  of  the  nature  of  things.  The  Great  Teacher  him- 
self recognized  this  limit  of  personal  influence.  He 
understood  spiritual  dynamics.  He  did  not  choose 
a  class  of  a  hundred,  but  a  class  of  only  twelve,  when 
he  would,  by  intimate  association,  day  after  day, 
possess  disciples  with  his  doctrine,  and  fill  them  with 
that  enthusiasm  of  humanity  which  should  revolu- 
tionize the  world. 

One  Sunday  evening  a  few  weeks  ago,  I  was  wan- 
dering alone  in  the  moonlight,  among  the  buildings 
of  Harvard  University. 

How  painfully  insignificant  seemed  these  little 
colleges  of  the  Interior.  But  then  came  the  thought, 
this  is  not  the  place  for  our  boys  of  eighteen.  This 
should  be  the  resort  for  men  of  twenty-five — men 
who  no  longer  need  the  personal  interest  and  frater- 
nal counsel  of  the  self-sacrificing  teacher— men  who 
are  old  enough  to  be  their  own  masters  and  to  make 
their  own  choices  independently — men  who  are  quali- 
fied to  exchange  the  class-room  for  the  lecture-room, 
men  who  are  ready  to  devote  themselves  to  special- 
ties and  systems,  caring  only  for  the  erudition  of  in- 
structors, the  treasures  of  science,  art  and  literature, 


86  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

and  all  those  stimulating  associations  which,  from 
such  surroundings,  inspire  one  who  knows  at  length 
what  he  wants  to  be  and  do  in  the  world;  but  the 
best  place  for  our  boys  of  eighteen  is  some  humble 
college  like  Knox,  or  Beloit,  or  Olivet,  where  they 
shall  be  personally  watched  over,  as  younger  breth- 
ren, by  a  Bateman,  or  an  Emerson,  or  a  Butterfield. 

If  the  Old  West  would  have  educated  and  conse- 
crated men  in  the  pews  and  in  the  pulpits  of  her 
churches,  let  her  come  to  the  rescue  of  her  colleges. 
The  demands  are  not  exorbitant.  The  cry  of  these 
institutions  is,  "  Give  us  neither  poverty  nor  riches." 
A  college  does  its  most  blessed  service  in  moulding 
the  character  of  students,  and  in  imparting  moral 
tone  and  vigor  to  society,  when  it  is  not  either 
cramped  for  pecuniary  resources,  or  "  rich  and  in- 
creased in  goods."  An  institution  is  like  a  man.  It 
must  have  a  certain  amount  of  capital  to  give  it  effi- 
ciency and  consequent  respect.  Beyond  that  there 
is  danger  that  abounding  wealth  will  produce  pride 
and  a  general  worldliness,  quenching  that  profound- 
ly religious  spirit  which  has  made  our  colleges  foun- 
tains of  refreshment  to  the  republic  and  to  Thy 
Kingdom,  O  God. 

As  economists,  as  patroits,  and  as  Christians,  we 
ought  to  pursue  this  eclectic  plan,  to  select  such  a 
number  of  these  institutions  as  the  Interior  demands, 
and  as  have  earned  the  right  to  the  name  which  they 
claim,  and  endow  them  immediately  according  to 
their  necessities. 

The  president  of  an  Eastern  university,  which  is 
worth  $5,000,000,  still  pleads  its  poverty.  But  the 
question  of  this  hour  is  not  of  grand  universities.  It 
confines  itself  to  humble  colleges,  which  do  not  as- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  87 

pire  to  be  universities,  but  which  do  seek  to  become 
colleges  in  all  respects  worthy  of  the  name.  An  in- 
crease to  half  a  million  each,  $250,000  in  plant  and 
$250,000  at  interest,  would  put  every  such  institution 
into  admirable  working  order.  But  if  only  an  in- 
crease to  $250,000  at  interest  could  be  straightway 
secured,  local  and  personal  attachment  would  be  so 
stimulated  as  to  provide  the  increase  in  plant,  at  no 
distant  day.  Therefore,  swell  to  a  quarter  of  a  mil- 
lion the  endowment  fund  of  every  college  in  the  Old 
West  which  has  at  least  $100,000  thus  secured.  Up 
and  down  the  Mississippi  Valley,  let  the  rally  cry 
ring! 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class: — Very 
different  was  the  baccalaureate  address  first  planned 
for  this  occasion.  But  I  finally  concluded  that  the 
best  service  which  I  could  render  both  you  and  the 
institution,  would  be,  to  give,  as  a  graduating  lesson, 
this  discourse  upon  the  colleges  of  the  dear  Old 
West,  which  I  hope  will  always  be  your  home.  You, 
are  not  the  sons  of  wealth.  You  have  no  great  for- 
tunes to  consecrate  to  any  beneficent  enterprise. 
The  rich  young  men  are  usually  sent  to  the  rich  col- 
leges of  the  East.  That  centers  their  interest,  and 
the  interest  of  their  fathers,  in  institutions  far  away. 
This  is  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  our  poverty.  As  a 
rule,  our  graduates  come  from  families  in  moderate 
or  even  straitened  circumstances.  However  loyal 
they  and  their  sires  may  be,  the  pecuniary  ability  to 
do  is  limited. 

It  is  one  special  mission  of  these  meagerly  endow- 
ed colleges  of  the  Interior  to  awaken,  among  the  less 
affluent,  a  passion  for  the  higher  learning,  and  to 
put  within  their  reach  facilities  for  its  gratification. 


88  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

That  special  mission  is  our  joy,  but  it  is  also  our 
embarrassment;  for  it  brings  but  little  of  this  world's 
glitter  and  still  less  of  its  gold. 

Have  we  not  then  a  right  to  expect,  that  whoever 
takes  a  diploma,  will  take  with  it  a  solemn  pledge,  to 
give  all  his  influence  from  that  day,  and  to  devote  a 
portion  of  his  earnings  from  that  day  to  the  service 
of  his  Alma  Mater? 

For  several  seasons  there  was  a  nest  in  one  of  the 
old  trees  on  College  Hill.  The  first  spring  it  was 
only  a  handful  of  twigs.  But  the  chicks  of  that 
summer  came  back  full  grown,  the  next  year,  and 
the  nest  grew  larger,  and  was  better  woven  together 
with  bits  of  thread  and  twine.  And  when  the  third 
generation  returned,  they  added  still  more  to  the 
structure,  and  lined  it  with  wool,  and  cotton,  and 
silk,  and  down. 

What  shall  be  said  of  the  fledgling  that  drops  out 
of  the  college  nest  with  a  thud,  and  a  cry  against  the 
hardness  of  those  dry  old  sticks.  Rather  take  wing 
with  a  song — and  fly  back,  by-and-by,  to  enlarge 
and  to  beautify. 

Figure  and  fact  combine  to  suggest  an  omen  in 
the  sky.  Shall  it  not  be  interpreted  to  mean  the 
devotion  of  class  after  class  to  the  college  on  the 
hill? 

One  of  your  number  is  the  son  of  a  member  of  my 
class  of  '57.  He  is  the  first  boy  from  that  class  to 
graduate;  and  as  the  eye  runs  over  the  present  list 
of  under-graduates,  all  the  boys  from  the  class  of 
'57  who  are  studying  in  college  anywhere,  are  study- 
ing here.  The  example  is  worthy  of  imitation,  now, 
and  in  the  years  to  come. 

But   forecast,   however   cheerful,   has  its  strain  of 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  89 

apprehension.  This  concerns  alike  the  institution 
and  her  sons.  The  greatest  danger  to  her  and  to 
you,  my  friends,  is  the  lack  of  religious  consecration. 
We  are  content  with  what  has  been  done  for  you, 
intellectually,  and  with  what  you  have  done  for 
yourselves,  intellectually.  We  do  not  fear  that  you 
will  ever  recall  any  great,  inexcusable  neglect,  on 
either  side,  in  that  direction. 

But  there  is — how  shall  I  word  it  delicately,  yet 
honestly — there  is  a  sense  of  dissatisfaction  at  the 
spiritual  outcome,  as  we  stand  here  face  to  face! 
Four  years  condensed  into  one  moment,  before  God. 
Boys,  are  you  quite  satisfied  yourselves? 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1885. 

"  Arise,  therefore,  and  be  doing  and  the  Lord  be  with  thee." — 
I  Chronicles,  xxii:  16. 

ONE  generation  soweth  that  another  generation 
may  reap.  Such  is  God's  law  for  the  enrichment  of 
the  race.  Viewed  in  the  abstract,  the  principle 
shows  only  a  beneficent  face;  but,  when  applied  in- 
dividually, it  exhibits  some  features  of  hardship. 

You  never  read  the  story  of  which  the  text  is  a 
portion,  without  finding  the  heart  going  out  very 
tenderly  to  David,  over  the  great  disappointment  of 
his  life.  Like  Moses,  he  was  brought  to  the  border 
line  of  his  fondest  hopes,  but  not  permitted  to  cross 
that  line.  Like  Moses,  he  made  everything  ready 
for  the  use  and  enjoyment  of  his  successor. 

Still,  in  our  final  estimate,  he  stands  far  higher, 
because  of  his  patient  and  unselfish  preparation  of 
the  materials  for  Solomon  to  put  into  the  temple, 
than  he  would  have  done,  had  he  not  himself  given 
up  all  idea  of  rearing  that  magnificent  structure. 
Nobler  than  the  victory  of  the  shepherd  lad  over 
the  Philistine  giant,  was  the  victory  of  the  shepherd 
king  over  himself,  when  he  was  able  to  say,  without 
a  single  rebellious  thought,  "Arise,  therefore,  and  be 
doing,  and  the  Lord  be  with  thee." 

We  can  not  turn  to  the  theme  of  the  afternoon, 
without  at  least  this  passing  allusion  to  the  struggle  and 
the  triumph,  within  the  breast  of  him  who  uttered 
the  text.  This  brief  tribute,  however,  must  suffice; 


92  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

for  our  present  concern  is  with  the  son,   rather  than 
with  the  father. 

Like  Solomon,  we  are  all  debtors  to  the  past.  It 
brings  its  treasures  of  various  sorts  very  freely  for 
our  appropriation.  There  is  a  long  period,  during 
which  we  are,  in  the  main,  beneficiaries.  Our  at- 
titude ought  to  be  one  of  gratitude.  So  far,  we 
can  claim  no  credit.  We  are  responsible,  however, 
for  putting  ourselves  into  the  best  receptive  con- 
dition. While  David  was  accumulating  the  cedar, 
iron,  brass,  silver  and  gold  for  his  successor,  the 
latter  kept  himself  in  careful  training,  so  that  he 
might  wisely  discharge  the  future  trust.  Such 
thankful  receptivity  becomes  us  all,  in  view  of  our 
heritage  from  the  by-gone.  No  princely  portion 
comes  to  us,  separately,  as  it  did  to  Solomon,  but  all 
have  a  rich  legacy  in  the  physical  comforts,  the  in- 
tellectual acquisitions,  and  the  spiritual  benefactions, 
which  the  ages  have  left  as  a  general  contribution  to 
mankind.  We  are  invited  to  appropriate  these 
reverently,  but  without  hesitation,  that  we  may  fit 
ourselves  to  stand  in  our  lot,  and,  in  turn,  contribute 
our  portion  to  the  heritage  of  those  who  shall  come 
after.  But  when  this  period  of  comparative  absorp- 
tion is  past,  we  hear  the  command  ring  out  loud  and 
clear,  "Arise  and  be  doing."  The  general  nature  of 
the  injunction  is  the  same  for  both  secular  and  religi- 
ous activities.  The  soul  must  be  up  and  on  the 
watch.  It  can  not  slumber  on  in  the  cabin  any  more, 
trusting  to  the  pilotage  of  others.  It  must  be  on 
deck  and  in  command  for  itself.  There  may  be  here 
and  there  a  person  whose  "strength  it  is  to  sit  still," 
but  such  exceptions  can  not  overthrow  the  well  nigh 
universal  rule. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  93 

Accordingly  the  first  stress  falls  upon  the  word 
"Arise."  Thus  we  take  the  attitude  which  gives  the 
best  control  of  every  faculty.  Plant  a  man  upon  his 
feet  if  you  would  secure  for  him  the  highest  respect. 
A  message  delivered  from  a  recumbent  position 
lacks  authority.  A  speech  pronounced  in  a  sitting 
posture  may  have  a  certain  conversational  grace,  but 
it  is  shorn  of  oratorical  power.  Standing,  in  the 
presence  of  others,  is  often  interpreted  as  only  a 
token  of  respect  for  them;  but  it  has  a  deeper  mean- 
ing. Subjectively  viewed,  it  signifies  the  laying 
aside  of  indolence;  it  signifies  alertness  of  body  and 
mind,  tense  muscle,  excited  brain.  Objectively 
viewed,  it  imparts  a  commanding  dignity,  which 
half  wins  the  battle,  and  insures  a  certain  momentum 
which  completes  the  victory.  William  of  Normandy 
tripped  and  fell  as  he  leaped  ashore  on  the  English 
coast.  He  lay  prostrate  for  an  instant,  an  object  of 
'derision;  but,  so  soon  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
with  his  right  hand  flung  to  the  winds  the  sands  of 
the  beach,  friend  and  foe,  saw  in  him  William,  the 
Conqueror.  The  picture  was  a  prophecy. 

Humility,  by  derivation,  means  lying  on  the 
ground.  It  is  one  of  the  Christian  graces.  There 
are  times  and  places,  when  and  where,  it  is  most  ap- 
propriate. But  we  should  not  stick  in  the  literal. 
The  spirit  of  the  virtue  is  consistent  with  erectness, 
vigor,  enthusiasm.  Humility  should  never  be  con- 
founded with  a  dawdling  supineness.  The  latter  is 
an  offence  to  men;  much  more  must  it  be  to  angels 
and  to  God  himself. 

Moreover,  one  must  arise  to  get  a  correct  general 
view  of  the  situation.  The  psalmist  does  speak  of 
happy  communings  with  himself  in  the  night 


94  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

watches,  but  most  of  us  cannot  testify  to  such  ex- 
periences. Whatever  we  study  thus  becomes  dis- 
torted. Difficulties  bulk  up  and  bright  possibilities 
dwindle  and  fade,  as  the  hours  drag  wearily  along. 
Not  until  we  arise  do  things  assume  relative  propor- 
tion. With  body  prostrate  on  a  sleepless  couch  in 
the  darkness,  the  mind  loses  the  power  of  discrimi- 
nation. Unnatural  physical  conditions  produce  a 
species  of  temporary  mental  derangement.  Now, 
while  such  experiences  are  distressing,  there  are  day 
reveries  which,  though  agreeable,  are  equally  unnat- 
ural. These  sink  difficulties  out  of  sight  and  be- 
wilder with  fancied  achievements.  We  sometimes 
seek  to  balance  the  forebodings  of  the  night  by 
these  dreams  of  the  day.  Both  habits  are  alike  per- 
nicious. 

It  is  said  of  Frederick  William  of  Prussia,  that  he 
was  always  getting  his  legions  ready  for  battles . 
which  were  never  to  come  off.  We  are  guilty  of 
even  worse  folly,  in  anticipating  by  night  disasters 
which  never  befall  us,  and  by  day,  magnificent 
things  beyond  our  sphere.  The  king  had  at  least 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  his  forces  were  bet- 
ter disciplined;  but  with  us  the  practice  only  demora- 
lizes our  faculties,  and  renders  us  more  and  more 
helpless  in  the  presence  of  such  foes  as  we  must  en- 
counter. Yet,  important  as  it  is  to  assume  that  at- 
titude which  will  enable  us  to  sweep  the  most  ex- 
tended horizon  of  possibilities,  and  to  occupy  the 
most  favorable  position  in  relation  to  those  possi- 
bilities, we  must  not  permit  ourselves  to  pause  there 
too  long.  While  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the 
situation  and  a  wise  adjustment  to  its  demands  are 
essential,  there  may  be  a  temptation  to  remain 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 


95 


stationary,  when  the  hour  has  come  for  action.  In 
marking  time  we  may  march,  and  yet  not  forward 
march. 

In  the  text  the  words  "  be  doing"  follow  the  word 
"  arise "  immediately.  The  verse  itself  is  nervous. 
Its  very  structure  suggests  energy  as  the  first  character- 
istic of  the  "  doing."  That  word  "  energy"  signifies 
from  its  derivation  and  composition,  that  one  must 
be  wholly  in  his  work.  To  some  extent  this  has  been 
the  secret  of  success  throughout  history,  but  it  be- 
comes increasingly  so  with  every  added  century.  As 
civilization  grows  complex,  competition  is  made 
fiercer.  The  enterprises  which  come  to  the  front 
and  stay  there,  do  so  by  the  consumption  of  person- 
al? energy.  The  fire-box  must  be  kept  full  of  fuel, 
that  the  cylinders  may  have  plenty  of  steam  for 
traction  and  velocity.  This  principle  applies  as  thor- 
oughly to  religious  as  it  does  to  secular  mechanics 
and  dynamics.  There  are  supernatural  elements  in 
spiritual  movements,  but  they  do  not  take  the  place 
of  human  energy.  A  Wycliffe  and  a  Luther  must 
heed  this  fact,  no  less  than  a  Galileo  and  a  Newton. 
So  far  the  minister  has  no  advantage  of  the  mer- 
chant. The  Master's  business  will  not  thrive  with- 
out crowding,  any  better  than  the  business  of  his 
humblest  servant. 

We  need  also  to  guard  against  waste  of  energy. 
In  our  best  engines  we  get  only  about  twenty  per 
cent,  out  of  our  coal.  The  rest  is  lost,  that  is  lost  for 
the  purposes  intended.  Nature  doubtless  uses  the 
other  eighty  per  cent,  somewhere  and  somehow,  but 
man  is  not  entitled  to  the  credit.  We  are  even  less 
successful  in  economizing  spiritual  forces.  They 
escape  in  all  directions.  God  probably  employs 


96  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

them  for  wise  purposes  under  his  government,  yet 
to  us  no  thanks  are  due.  Instead  of  remembering 
that  one  safety-valve  is  enough,  we  multiply  valves, 
leave  them  all  open,  and  then  wonder  that  so  little 
is  accomplished.  In  the  natural  world  we  recognize 
the  power  of  concentration.  The  only  way  to  make 
the  Mississippi  clear  itself,  is  through  the  jetties. 
But  in  the  spiritual  world,  instead  of  strengthening 
the  jetties,  we  cut  the  levees,  and  then  charge  dis- 
asters to  the  mysteries  of  Providence. 

The  "  be  doing"  of  the  text  contemplated  neither 
waste  nor  aimlessness.  Solomon  was  lavish  in  his 
use  of  materials,  but  he  squandered  nothing,  he 
made  every  bit  of  wood  and  metal  tell  toward  the 
realization  of  one  grand  plan.  Men  adopt  system 
in  everything  else,  and  then  let  religious  activities  go 
at  haphazard.  Some  entertain  the  notion  that  a 
sharply  defined  method  has  about  it  an  air  of  self- 
sufficiency,  which  must  be  displeasing  to  the  Most 
High.  Certain  facts  and  utterances  in  the  New 
Testament,  which  were  local  and  temporary  in  their 
intention,  have  been  forced  into  unwarranted  uses. 
In  the  first  emergencies  and  crises  of  the  Church, 
the  Apostles  were  re-assured  by  the  promise  of  such 
an  interposition  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  would  render 
premeditation,  on  their  part,  unnecessary.  Full 
divine  illumination,  the  instant  it  was  needed,  was 
pledged  to  take  the  place  of  forethought  in  speech 
and  prayer.  Hence,  to  this  day,  not  a  few  falsely 
conclude  that  sermons  and  especially  addresses  to 
the  throne  of  grace  should  have  no  preparation; 
that  all  should  be  left  to  immediate  divine  sugges- 
tion, that  everything  studied  must  be  artificial  and 
odius  to  heaven.  A  more  careful  examination  of 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  97 

the  Sacred  Record  would  correct  this  mistake.  It 
would  show,  even  in  the  case  of  Christ  and  His  im- 
mediate followers,  the  greatest  economy  of  the  mir- 
aculous. Natural  agencies  were  made  to  take  the 
place  of  the  supernatural,  as  rapidly  as  possible- 
There  may  still  be  special  instances  in  which  we  may 
properly  look  for  special  aid  from  heaven,  when  we 
are  to  be  peculiarly  absorbed  in  momentous  affairs. 
There  was  appropriateness  in  the  prayer  of  the 
Christian  general  as  the  battle  opened:  "  O  Lord, 
thou  knowest  how  busy  I  must  be  this  day.  If  I 
forget  thee,  do  not  thou  forget  me — march  on, 
boys!  "  But,  in  all  the  regular  religious  affairs  of 
life,  where  time  and  opportunity  are  given  for  the 
use  of  our  own  faculties,  the  presumption  lies,  not  in 
the  employment  of  those  faculties,  but  in  indolently 
trusting  to  God  to  bring  us  through.  "  Be  doing" 
is  heaven's  imperative. 

Moreover,  the  doing  must  be  continuous.  It  may 
be  remittent,  but  it  should  not  be  intermittent ;  just 
as  the  tides  rise  and  fall,  yet  keep  up  movement 
without  ceasing.  There  is  a  law  of  action  and  re-ac- 
tion in  spiritual  affairs,  which  we  must  respect,  and 
which  God  himself  respects.  It  is  a  fine  secret,  to 
know  how  to  relax  and  adjust  the  tension,  to  keep  it 
always  on,  and  yet  never  let  it  break.  We  suffer 
greatly  from  spasmodic  action,  followed  by  collapse. 
He  accomplishes  most,  who  never  lets  go  the  thread 
of  his  purpose,  but  steadily  weaves  it  in,  now  rapid- 
ly, now  slowly,  according  to  the  changing  conditions 
in  himself  and  in  his  environment.  In  such  cease- 
less effort,  sundry  cautions  should  be  observed.  Let 
unhealthy  competition  be  avoided.  There  is  a  con- 
stant tendency  to  measure  ourselves  against  one 


98  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

another,  to  try  to  outstrip  somebody  else,  to  be  un- 
duly elated,  when  we  are  a  length  or  two  ahead,  and 
to  be  unduly  depressed  when  we  find  ourselves  drop- 
ping behind.  This  vice  gets  into  church  politics,  as 
well  as  into  state  politics.  It  is  also  a  constantly 
disturbing  element  in  the  sphere  of  private  Christian 
life.  Any  pastor  will  tell  you  that  this  is  one  of  the 
most  perplexing  things  to  regulate  among  his  flock, 
to  keep  all  running,  and  yet  keep  them  running  in 
different  directions,  so  that  nobody  is  ahead,  and 
everybody  is  ahead.  He  is  pretty  well  on  toward 
perfection,  who  is  able  to  keep  his  eye  steadily  upon 
the  goal,  without  ever  looking  out  of  one  corner  of 
his  eye,  to  see  whether  somebody  else  is  not  coming 
up  alongside.  How  many  in  this  audience  can  tes- 
tify that  they  have  attained  unto  that? 

Not  so  bad,  but  still  to  be  avoided,  is  the  practice 
of  running  Christian  races  with  one's  self.  It  is 
well,  now  and  then,  to  compare  ourselves  with  our 
former  selves.  This  will  give  us  wholesome  reproof, 
and,  also,  wholesome  encouragement.  But  that  is  a 
very  different  thing  from  apprehensively  weighing 
every  performance  by  its  predecessor.  Such  a  prac- 
tice makes  one  morbid  and  feverish  and  incapaci- 
tates him  for  the  best  achievement.  The  energy 
which  is  spent  upon  the  anxiety  to  do  one  better  so 
enfeebles,  that  you  do  one  worse  instead. 

The  doing  which  satisfies  the  text  is  of  a  different 
sort.  The  rule  should  be,  to  do  our  best  under  the 
circumstances  every  time,  without  any  comparison 
with  previous  occasions.  Pardon  a  personal  allu- 
sion, as  it  illustrates  the  principle.  It  was  my  privi- 
lege, for  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  to  preach  to  a 
congregation  of  insane  people.  I  used  to  try  every 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 


99 


Sunday  to  make  as  good  a  sermon  as  I  was  able,  for 
those  unfortunates.  Friends  often  laughed  at  me 
for  wasting  my  pains.  But  the  only  way  to  the 
hearts  of  those  suffering  men  and  women  was  such 
laborious  proof  that  I  was  trying  to  minister  unto 
them,  to  serve  them.  There  was  a  constant  satisfac- 
tion in  the  effort,  and  then,  when  the  pressure  of 
other  duties  forced  me  to  resign  the  charge,  I  found 
that,  without  knowing  it,  I  had  all  along  been  doing 
the  best  thing  for  myself,  in  establishing  that  habit 
of  work,  and  in  getting  the  soul  into  sympathy  with 
all  forms  of  heart-ache  and  wild  woe — a  possession 
forever.  Continuous  doing  always  enlarges  the 
knowledge,  the  ability  and  the  sphere  for  doing. 

Let  these  activities  likewise  be  cheerful.  There  is 
a  strong  strain  of  duty  in  our  English  blood,  and 
that  is  well.  "  What  are  your  orders,  if  you  are 
killed?"  said  an  officer  to  Wellington.  Replied  he, 
"  Do  as  I  am  doing.  Remember  old  England."  In 
New  England,  in  the  council  chamber,  on  the  dark 
day  when  all  thought  that  the  end  of  the  world  had 
come,  said  Colonel  Davenport:  "  The  day  of  judg- 
ment is  approaching,  or  it  is  not.  If  it  is  not,  there 
is  no  cause  for  adjourning.  If  it  is,  I  want  to  be 
found  doing  my  duty.  Bring  in  the  candles." 

Such  utterances  are  grandly  heroic.  No  better 
stimulant  can  be  taken  for  low  moral  tone.  Still 
they  accord  better  with  Waterloos  and  solar  eclipses 
than  with  petty  conflicts,  under  the  light  of  common 
day.  Over  the  latter  they  cast  too  grim  a  shadow. 
Our  "  doing"  ought  to  be  done  with  brighter  faces 
and  cheerier  speech.  Opportunities  for  stage  effect 
are  very  limited.  The  theatres  for  our  acting  are 
the  home,  the  school,  the  forum,  the  shop,  the  farm 


IOO  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  the  street.  Our  part  is  to  be  doing,  with  a  glad- 
ness which  shines  in  the  countenance  and  makes  the 
tongue  musical.  That  is  the  spirit  which  should  per- 
vade every  Christian  psalm  of  life.  Give  us,  O 
God,  more  enthusiasm,  more  of  thyself  within  the 
soul,  for  its  transfiguration  before  the  world. 

Religion  may  live  without  enthusiasm;  but  it  can- 
not propagate  itself  without  enthusiasm.  From  this 
it  gets  virility.  You  cannot  point  to  any  vigorous 
enterprise  of  learning  or  philanthropy  or  Christian- 
ity which  is  not  kept  moving  by  those  whose  hearts 
drive  warm  blood,  with  every  throb,  into  some  part 
of  the  organization.  Churches  languish,  noble  char- 
ities languish,  colleges  languish,  because  they  fall  a 
prey  to  the  miserable  spirit  of  routine.  When  the 
minister's  spiritual  pulse  beats  feebly,  and  he  plans, 
perfunctorily,  to  get  through  with  two  sermons  on 
Sunday  and  a  mid-week  prayer-meeting,the  preaching 
grows  thin  and  the  congregation  thinner,  the  prayer 
grows  cold  and  the  prayer-meeting  colder;  till  the 
church  thermometer  marks  zero.  Benevolent 
organizations  lose  the  first  love  of  their  founders, 
and  fall  into  the  hands  of  managers  whose  benevo- 
lence is  all  nepotism,  managers  who  fit  up  sinecures 
for  themselves,  their  children  and  their  grand-chil- 
dren, and  thus,  with  the  family  sponge,  absorb  the 
revenues  intended  for  the  poor  and  the  unfortunate. 
Teachers  neglect  preparation  for  recitation.  The 
hour  becomes  insipid  to  them  and  to  their  classes. 
They  watch  for  the  striking  of  the  clock.  They  are 
more  eager  than  pupils  for  holidays.  They  grow  to 
live  less  and  less  for  term  time,  and  more  and  more 
for  vacation.  September  is  somber,  June  brings 
jubilee. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  IOI 

The  same  demoralizing  tendency  is  manifest  in  all 
vocations.  Lack  of  enthusiasm  in  whatever  is  wor- 
thy means  the  absence  of  God  therefrom. 

****** 

The  text  concludes  with  the  words,  "  The  Lord  be 
with  thee."  The  way  and  the  only  way  to  insure 
His  presence,  is  to  "  arise  and  be  doing,"  in  the 
spirit  inculcated  this  evening.  Such  consecration  is 
vital.  Out  of  it  are  the  very  issues  of  life,  life  ever- 
lasting. 

Add  to  diligence  in  business,  this  fervency  of 
spirit,  and  you  can  never  labor  alone  and  in  vain. 
Take  this  doctrine  back  to  your  toil,  of  whatsoever 
sort  it  be.  The  sweetest,  richest,  most  blessed  ex- 
perience on  earth  is  that  of  working  thus  for  God 
and  with  God. 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Class  of  1885:  Commence- 
ment day  is  always  an  occasion  of  thanksgiving. 
Sometimes  it  is  merely  thanksgiving  for  deliverance, 
resembling  that  which  gladdens  the  schoolboy,  on 
Friday  evening,  or  at  the  close  of  the  term.  Gener- 
ally, however,  in  addition  to  that  sense  of  relief 
which  is  natural  on  the  completion  of  any  round  of 
duties,  the  soul  becomes  aware  of  a  new  birth  of 
gratitude.  A  student  never  really  learns  to  look 
backward,  until  the  day  of  his  graduation.  That  is 
a  curious  fact.  You  may  get  an  inkling  of  my  mean- 
ing, this  afternoon;  for  this  address  is  the  initial 
formula  of  separation  from  the  institution.  There  is 
a  loosening  of  the  cords  that  have  till  the  present 
hour  bound  you  to  the  college  community.  Hitherto 
you  have  been  regarded  bv  your  fellow  students  as 
comrades,  entitled  to  the  same  rights  and  subject  to 
the  same  restrictions.  You  have  been  questioned 


IO2  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

from  the  teacher's  desk  and  spoken  to  from  the  pul- 
pit on  the  same  plane  with  other  undergraduates. 

But,  now,  the  classes  move  forward.  Other  Sen- 
iors are  taking  your  places.  You  are  crowded  out. 
The  ordinary  relation  of  instructor  and  pupil  ceases. 
The  sermon  of  the  day,  by  anticipation,  brings  spe- 
cial greeting  unto  you  as  "  Baccalaurei."  As  you 
stand  here  the  fact  that  you  are  with  us,  but,  in  the 
old  sense,  not  of  us  any  more,  begins  to  shape  itself 
in  consciousness.  It  is  a  still  hour.  Softer  airs  are 
playing.  Memory  touches  a  single  tremolo  strain. 

But  you  will  understand  this  far  better  on  Thurs- 
day, when  you  take  your  diploma  and  your  flowers, 
and  go  off  by  yourself,  and  sit  down  alone  face  to 
face  with  the  question,  "  What  next?  "  The  harder 
you  try  to  explore  futurity,  the  more  you  will  be 
forced  to  look  backward.  You  will  regret  that  you 
have  neglected  some  things.  You  will  be  glad  that 
you  have  escaped  some  things.  Your  appreciation 
of  many  things  will  be  quickened.  The  result 
should  be  a  reverent  gratitude,  till  then  unknown. 
At  such  a  season,  none  but  a  coarse,  depraved  na- 
ture could  fail  to  recognize  its  debt  to  the  past. 

A  profound  thankfulness  should  characterize  every 
young  man  who  has  had  the  privilege  of  spending 
six  or  seven  years  in  liberalizing  study.  He  does  not 
yet  know  much;  but  he  has  been  trained  to  know, 
and  to  do,  and  to  be,  according  to  the  measure  of 
his  faculties.  His  power  of  vision  has  been  cultivated. 
He  sees  what  God  has  accomplished  through  human 
agencies  in  the  lapse  of  time.  He  is  impressed  with 
the  obligations'  which  the  generation  present  is  un- 
der to  the  generations  past.  He  exults  in  the 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  103 

thought,  that  he  is  welcome  to  the  priceless  treas- 
ures of  the  ages,  according  to  his  capacity  to  re- 
ceive. Such  devout  gratitude  is  the  noblest  incen- 
tive to  "  be  up  and  doing."  It  takes  the  selfishness 
out  of  ambition,  and  inspires  one  to  make  as  large 
as  possible  his  little  contribution  to  the  well-being 
of  man  and  the  glory  of  the  Creator.  There  is  no 
legal  compulsion.  The  youth  may  take  all  and  give 
none.  The  future  does  not  present  to  him  any  or- 
der on  demand  signed  by  the  past.  There  is  in  the 
case  no  urgency  except  moral  urgency,  but,  with  an 
ingenuous  character,  that  is  irresistible.  So  may  it 
prove  with  every  one  of  you. 

Your  course  during  the  year  now  closing  justifies 
the  belief  that  this  will  not  be  a  fruitless  petition. 
You  remember  that  one  day  last  September,  I  set 
before  you  the  proper  relation  of  a  Senior  Class  to 
an  institution  of  learning,  and  asked  your  quiet  co- 
operation with  the  faculty,  in  promoting  whatever 
pertained  to  college  well-being.  This  was  urged,  as 
a  matter  of  duty  and  of  privilege.  The  appeal  met 
a  hearty  response,  and  to  your  unobtrusive  but  mani- 
fest sympathy  with  sobriety  and  manly  endeavor, 
should  be  credited  not  a  little  of  the  year's  peace 
and  prosperity.  Carry  your  class  characteristic 
from  college  to  citizenship.  "  And  the  Lord  be 
with  you."  Believe  me,  this  is  not  a  formal  benedic- 
tion. Your  general  attitude  respecting  the  good 
and  the  true,  has  given  you  among  your  fellow-stu- 
dents the  humorous  appellation  of  the  "  Twelve 
Apostles."  The  term  does  not  bear  with  it  any 
suggestion  of  cant  and  hypocrisy,  or  of  alarming 
saintliness.  It  is  simply  a  good-natured  recognition 
of  your  moral  standing.  As  such  it  is  a  high  honor. 


IO4  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

In  this  sense,  may  there  be  a  large  apostolic  succes- 
sion among  these  undergraduates. 

Pardon  one  word  more.  Most  of  you  acknow- 
ledge Christ  as  Master  and  Lord.  It  is  just  half  a 
century  since  the  first  class  went  forth  from  the  in- 
stitution. It  has  been  my  most  earnest  wish,  my 
most  constant  prayer,  that  this  fiftieth  anniversary 
might  see  every  one  of  you,  not  almost,  but  alto- 
gether Christian.  Nothing  less  will  express  the 
meaning  which  now  surcharges  the  words:  "  The 
Lord  be  with  you" 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1886. 

"As  he  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he." — Proverbs,  xxiii:  7. 

THOUGHT  makes  character.  This  statement  does 
not  pass  unchallenged.  Many  criticise  it,  as  too 
sweeping  an  assertion.  Substitute  modifies  for 
''makes,"  and  they  would  subscribe  to  the  proposi- 
tion. Should  you  ask  them:  "  what  then  does  make 
character?"  you  would  get  different  replies.  Some 
would  answer:  heredity.  Man  lives  and  dies  what 
he  was  born.  If  you  could  tell  the  tendencies  with 
which  the  infant  was  first  laid  in  the  cradle,  you 
could  infallibly  predict,  what  the  moral  nature  of  the 
adult  would  be,  when  his  body  was  laid  in  the 
coffin. 

Take  from  the  veins  of  the  newly-born  babe  a  few 
drops  of  blood,  and  an  exhaustive  analysis  would 
give  you  a  picture  of  the  soul,  with  the  spiritual 
lineaments  which  it  must  wear  forever.  Logical 
consistency  will  drive  the  most  radical  advocates  of 
the  doctrine  of  heredity  to  such  pre-natal  fatalism. 

When  led  away  from  general  declamation,  to  face 
these  specific  statements  and  their  consequences, 
some  admit  that  they  did  not  realize  the  meaning  of 
their  rhetoric,  and  retreat  from  their  position;  others 
seek  to  cover  their  confusion  with  a  still  freer  use  of 
figures  of  speech;  while  others,  still,  put  on  a  bold 
face,  and  declare  this  to  be  the  ground  on  which  they 
are  going  to  fight  out  the  question. 

Now,    so   far    as   my  experience  extends,  while  I 


IO6  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

find  authors  who  maintain  this  extreme  position,  on 
the  printed  page  in  general  terms,  I  have  never  met 
an  individual  who  would  affirm,  concerning  himself, 
that  his  character  was  fixed  before  his  birth,  that  its 
essential  features  were  settled  by  his  ancestors,  and 
that  all  he  had  ever  had  the  power  to  do,  was  to 
change,  in  some  slight  degree,  those  traits  which 
had  been  forced  upon  him  as  an  inexorable  portion, 
by  preceding  generations.  Pursue  the  Socratic 
method.  Crowd  the  question  out  of  the  abstract. 
Make  it  concrete.  Apply  it  rigidly  to  the  individ- 
ual, and  you  will  not  find,  in  the  whole  circuit  of 
your  acquaintance,  a  single  person  who  will  squarely 
maintain  that  what  he  is  to-day  morally,  is  essenti- 
ally the  necessary  product  of  his  inheritance.  Con- 
sciousness when  brought  upon  the  stand  and  com- 
pelled to  testify  without  qualification  or  subterfuge, 
invariably  answers  Nay!  Nay! 

Consciousness,  thus  interrogated,  is  the  only  com- 
petent and  trustworthy  witness.  But,  while  we  reject 
the  extreme  views  on  heredity  which  we  discover  in 
some  so-called  scientific  treatises,  let  us  not,  in  a 
spirit  of  intolerance,  refuse  to  admit  the  legitimate 
claims  of  the  doctrine.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
character  is  always  modified  by  inherited  tendencies. 
This  may  be  granted  without  subscribing  to  any 
form  of  necessity  or  fatalism,  without  abandoning 
the  perfect  freedom  of  the  individual  will,  in  making 
the  individual  character.  Indeed,  there  is  no  other 
way  of  rendering  the  supremacy  of  volition  so  con- 
spicuous, as  to  emphasize  the  power  of  heredity,  and 
then  demonstrate  its  subordination  to  the  higher 
principle. 

The    predispositions   with   which    we    enter    the 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  IOJ 

world  are  subtle  and  mighty  in  their  influence.  They 
give  great  weight  to  certain  probabilities.  Still 
there  is  never  an  instance,  in  which  the  current  may 
not  be  made  to  flow  the  other  way.  Due  East  may 
not  be  changed  to  due  West.  There  may  remain 
sortie  traces  of  the  original  set  of  the  stream,  some 
Eastings,  but  the  prevailing  direction  may  be  made 
Westerly.  That  which  started  for  the  Atlantic  will 
thus  empty  into  the  Pacific,  though  the  Primary  im- 
petus may  swing  the  river  far  Northward  or  South- 
ward, before  it  finds  its  mouth. 

In  the  game  of  life  heredity  plays  a  strong  hand, 
but  volition  always  holds  a  trump  card.  If  volition 
is  beaten,  it  is  from  neglect,  and  not  from  necesssity. 

In  the  next  place,  we  meet  those  who  yield  the 
point  just  discussed,  who  grant  that  character  is  not 
fixed  by  those  tendencies  with  which  we  are  born; 
but  who  maintain  that  it  is  settled,  by  the  physical 
environment  into  which  we  are  born.  Henry  Thomas 
Buckle  first  popularized  this  idea,  in  his  History  of 
Civilization,  by  the  prominence  which  he  assigned 
to  climate,  soil,  food  and  the  aspects  of  nature,  in 
shaping  human  destiny.  There  are  now-a-days  a 
great  many  little  Buckles,  who  give  the  doctrine  a 
rigid  application,  possibly  never  intended  by  their 
great  master.  At  all  events,  his  disciples  would  use 
the  principle,  to  overthrow  the  idea  of  moral  respon- 
sibility. They  claim  that  notions  of  right  and 
wrong  which  would  be  considered  binding  at  the 
Arctic  Circle,  all  melt  away  under  the  heat  of  the 
Tropics;  that  the  system  of  ethics  where  men  have 
plenty  to  eat  would  lose  all  constraining  power  in 
regions  where  famines  are  common;  that  ideas 
which  flourish  at  high  altitudes  amid  stimulating 


IO8  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

scenery,  must  perish  when  brought  down  to  low 
levels  and  vast  stretches  of  monotony,  just  as  cer- 
tainly as  the  floras  of  the  same  regions  die,  when  in- 
terchanged. 

The  mind  has  a  passion  for  analogies,  which  is 
tickled  by  generalizations  of  this  description.  They 
contain  enough  truth  to  make  them  as  plausible  as 
they  are  captivating,  until  they  are  subjected  to 
close  examination.  You  cannot  study  history,  with- 
out being  struck  with  the  general  way  in  which  cli- 
matic belts  have  modified  national  characteristics. 

A  people's  moral  complexion  will  be  affected  by 
food  and  drink.  The  general  ethical  standard  will 
vary,  more  or  less,  according  to  physical  altitude 
and  outlook.  One  may  freely  admit  all  this,  with- 
out giving  any  countenance  to  fatalism  or  necessity, 
without  weakening  in  the  slightest  degree  the  string- 
ency of  moral  obligation.  You  may  adduce  shining 
examples,  to  prove  that  the  doctrines  of  the  Mount 
of  Beatitudes  may  be  naturalized  at  the  equator;  that 
the  meat  and  drink  interrogative  need  not  corrupt 
the  imperative  ought;  and  that  Christian  liberty  may 
be  as  valiant  on  lowlands  as  on  highlands. 

When  your  adversary  declaims  of  freedom  and 
mountain  heights,  and  points  to  Europe  and  the 
Alps,  bid  him  turn  to  Asia  with  her  Himalayas,  the 
home  of  political  and  religious  despotism  in  all  ages. 
The  generalization  breaks  in  two,  precisely  where  it 
looked  strongest. 

Even  more  satisfactory  is  the  appeal  to  individual 
consciousness.  The  doctrine  of  environment  is 
most  vulnerable  at  the  same  point  with  the  doctrine 
of  heredity.  Go  from  meridian  to  meridian,  from 
parallel  to  parallel,  arraying  this  principle  in  its 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 


109 


most  attractive  garb,  ask  every  person  whom  you 
meet  whether  he  does  not  recognize  the  absolute 
supremacy  of  this  law  over  himself,  and  you  will 
not  find  a  solitary  mortal  that  will  admit  its  domin- 
ion in  his  own  case.  All  will  concede  that  these 
considerations  have  an  important  influence,  but 
every  one  will  strongly  declare  his  own  ability  to 
resist  that  influence. 

Extend  the  thought  from  physical  to  social  en- 
vironment. The  latter  is  even  more  powerful  than 
the  former  in  modifying  character.  Morally,  pure 
companionship  is  more  bracing  than  lake  breezes. 
Lofty  ethical  standards  furnish  a  tonic  more  invig- 
orating than  any  mountain  altitudes.  The  preval- 
ence of  degrading  conceptions  of  life  will  debase 
worse  than  barren  soil  and  meager  diet. 

Still,  though  we  can  not  be  too  careful  concerning 
such  surroundings,  we  know  that  there  is  not  in 
them,  either  singly  or  collectively,  any  compulsion 
which  the  soul  cannot  resist.  We  say  respecting 
these  as  respecting  the  others,  they  -modify  but  they 
do  not  make  character.  The  final  analysis  shows  us, 
that  it  is  the  individual  will  which  fixes  the  individ- 
ual character. 

Now  what  is  this  will?  Is  it  simple  and  independ- 
ent? Or  is  it  a  product  of  other  factors?  The  an- 
swer is  found  in  the  text,  "As  a  man  thinketh  in  his 
heart,  so  is  he."  Thought,  affection,  volition,  char- 
acter! The  first  two  flow  together  into  the  third, 
and  that  decides  the  fourth. 

This  view  exalts  thinking  to  a  position  which  it 
does  not  enjoy  in  the  estimate  of  the  multitude. 
What  is  more  common  than  the  assertion  that  it 
makes  no  difference  what  a  man  thinks;  his  actions 


110  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

only  are  important.  The  assertion  betrays  a  great 
lack  of  discrimination.  It  is  true,  if,  by  "what  a 
man  thinks  "  you  mean  merely  such  general  notions 
as  he  assents  to,  without  examination,  because  they 
are  constantly  repeated  in  his  hearing,  notions  which 
have  no  more  bearing  upon  his  conduct  than  would 
a  fragment  from  the  multiplication  table,  or  any 
axiom  in  geometry.  It  is  true,  if,  by  "  what  a  man 
thinks,"  you  mean  certain  abstract  formulae  which 
he  has  worked  out  for  himself  in  mental  gymnastics, 
and  which  he  lays  up  as  bric-a-brac,  curiosities  to 
amuse  himself  with,  when  he  has  nothing  important 
to  do.  It  is  true,  if,  by  "  what  a  man  thinks,"  you 
mean  certain  metaphysical  propositions  which  he 
has  elaborated,  but  which  have  no  more  relation  to 
motives  of  conduct  than  do  the  properties  of  the 
parabola.  What  is  indicated  in  the  first  of  these 
suppositions,  does  not  deserve  the  name  of  thinking. 
What  is  indicated  in  the  other  two  suppositions, 
would  be  thinking  of  some  sort,  but  not  of  the  kind 
defined  by  the  text,  which  says  explicitly,  "  as  a  man 
thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he."  The  thinking  with 
which  we  are  dealing  to-day  is  restricted  to  that 
which  embraces  the  heart  in  its  circuit,  which  throbs 
with  all  the  emotions  between  fervid  love  and  malig- 
nant hate.  If  what  you  call  your  creed  is  made  by 
this  kind  of  thinking,  it  is  of  momentous  importance 
what  that  creed  is.  Your  character  is  in  it,  and  be- 
cause your  character  is  in  it,  your  eternal  destiny  is 
in  it  also. 

Let  us  examine  these  two  kinds  of  thinking,  head 
thinking  and  heart  thinking,  more  closely  in  their 
bearings  on  the  subject.  Even  the  former  has  a  cer- 
tain dignity.  Pure  intellectualism  is  exalted  far 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  Ill 

above  mere  animalism.  Better  a  thousandfold  the 
one  who  gives  his  days  and  nights  to  the  coldest 
and  idlest  speculations,  than  the  one  who  can  say 
nothing  but,  let  me  eat,  let  me  drink,  and  then  let 
me  die. 

The  schoolmen  of  the  middle  ages  excite  your  ad- 
miration by  their  mental  adroitness,  at  the  same 
time  that  you  lament  the  waste  of  so  much  logical 
subtlety.  You  put  them  far  higher  in  the  scale  of 
being  than  you  do  their  contemporaries  that  gave 
themselves  up  to  revellings  and  debaucheries. 

We  have  in  modern  times  a  race  of  essayists,  who 
take  pride  in  studying  all  subjects  in  the  white  light 
of  pure  reason.  It  is  one  of  their  first  principles,  to 
guard  against  the  disturbing  influence  of  the  emo- 
tions. The  view  must  be  absolutely  dispassionate. 
Sufficient  heat  to  quicken  the  pulse  or  flush  the 
cheek  in  any  mental  process  brings  the  conclusion 
into  discredit.  Matthew  Arnold  is  the  best  repre- 
sentative of  {he  fraternity.  Doubtless,  they  have 
made  valuable  contributions  to  knowledge.  We  see 
much  to  praise  in  the  consistency  and  the  persis- 
tency of  their  course.  Moreover,  as  they  think,  so 
are  they.  In  reading  their  books,  you  read  them. 
The  volume  formed  the  man,  is  the  man.  As  the 
ideas  went  into  the  treatise,  they  went  into  the  au- 
thor and  fixed  his  character. 

Now  while  we  can  justly  set  up  this  claim  in  such 
cases;  while  we  can  show  that  mere  cold  intellec- 
tualism  has  this  irresistible  power  over  those  by 
whom  it  is  worshiped,  it  is  pre-eminently  the  think- 
ing in  which  head  and  heart  sympathize  that  illus- 
trates the  text.  Examples  of  the  most  opposite  na- 
ture might  be  multiplied.  The  doctrine  points  hell- 


112  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ward  as  well  as  heavenward.  With  involuntary 
actions,  we  have  now  no  concern.  We  are  dealing 
with  voluntary  actions  only.  These  are  the  chief 
indices  of  character.  They  sometimes  deceive,  but 
they  are  the  best  witnesses  we  can  get,  and  they  are 
as  a  rule,  trustworthy.  Yet  such  actions  are  never 
actions,  until  after  they  have  been  thoughts.  They 
are  simply  thoughts  made  visible.  Christ  was  al*- 
ways  laying  the  stress  here.  He  ran  the  probe  right 
in  the  heart-thought,  when  he  wanted  to  show  up 
what  the  man  was.  Said  He:  "  Out  of  the  heart  pro- 
ceed evil  thoughts"  Yes,  but  He  does  not  stop 
there.  He  goes  on  to  actions — "murders,  adulteries, 
fornications,  thefts,  false  witness,  blasphemies — 
these  are  things  which  defile  a  man."  The  heart  is 
the  hidden  nest,  in  which  the  whole  infernal  brood 
is  secretly  hatched,  long  before  the  world  is  shocked 
with  outrage  and  atrocity. 

The  throne  of  Scotland  would  seem  far  enough 
away  from  the  barren  heath  where  tlje  witches  are 
dancing  hand  in  hand.  "All  hail  Macbeth!  thou 
shalt  be  king  hereafter  " — nothing  but  a  thought — 
a  thought  which  has  never  before  entered  the  mind 
of  that  hitherto  loyal  soldier.  But  now  it  drops 
from  the  witches'  lips  into  the  ear,  and  down,  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  heart.  The  noble  nature  strug- 
gles for  mastery.  "  Why  do  I  yield  to  that  sugges- 
tion whose  horrid  image  doth  unfix  my  hair  and 
make  my  seated  heart  knock  at  my  ribs  against  the 
use  of  nature?  Stars,  hide  your  fires;  let  not  light 
see  my  black  and  deep  desires." 

And  presently  Lady  Macbeth  is  reading  a  letter, 
and  her  eyes  catch  those  same  words,  "  Hail,  king 
that  shalt  be."  It  is  only  a  thought.  But  it  has 


BA  CCALA  UREA TE   ADDRESS.  I  1 3 

dropped  down,  down  to  the  bottom  of  her  heart 
also.  And  then  the  man  and  woman  stand  face  to 
face.  They  discuss  that  thought.  The  interview  is 
brief.  But  before  they  separate  that  thought  has 
become  one  hideous  purpose  in  the  breast  of  both. 
"  Out  of  the  heart  proceed  murders."  The  character 
and  destiny  of  the  two  are  fixed  forever.  Macbeth 
and  Lady  Macbeth  are  already  murderers,  though  no 
dagger  has  yet  been  lifted  against  Duncan  or  Ban- 
quo. 

Christ  "  knew  what  was  in  man."  Shakespeare 
knew  what  was  in  man.  It  is  possible  that  even  here 
in  the  house  of  God,  an  evil  spirit  has  its  lips  at  your 
ear,  and  is  whispering  some  baneful  suggestion  to 
your  heart.  Beware!  it  is  possible  that  out  of  your 
heart  also  may  come  that  which  will  fill  society  with 
mingled  amazement,  indignation  and  loathing. 

Friends,  it  behooves  us  all,  now  and  then,  to  walk 
up  to  the  brink  of  one  of  these  chasms,  and  steady 
ourselves,  and  look  over  and  down,  till  we  see  the 
lurid  glow,  and  take  into  the  lungs  the  hot  breath  of 
the  nether  world.  An  unholy  thought,  getting  pos- 
session of  the  heart,  hurled  even  a  Lucifer  into  the 
abyss.  Who  then  does  not  need  warning? 

Turn  next  from  such  possibilities  to  those  proba- 
bilities, which  are  of  universal  application.  It  is  not 
likely,  that  any  one  into  whose  face  I  am  looking  is 
being  swept  along,  by  an  overmastering  thought, 
towards  some  awful  catastrophe.  It  is  not  likely 
that  any  man  present  will  ever  be  driven  to  that, 
which  shall  make  him  cry  in  the  madness  of-  re- 
morse: "  Avaunt,  and  quit  my  sight!  Let  the  earth 
hide  thee!  Thy  bones  are  marrowless,  thy  blood  is 
cold!  Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes  which 


114  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

thou  dost  glare  with."  It  is  not  likely  that  any  wo- 
man present  will  ever  in  her  sleep  walk  up  and 
down,  trying  to  wash  from  her  hand  the  traces  of 
guilt,  and  sobbing  in  anguish  "  that,  there's  the  smell 
of  blood  still,  that  all  the  perfumes  of  Arabia  will 
not  sweeten  that  hand." 

But  it  is  probable  that  thoughts,  not  shocking,  yet 
sinful,  not  straightway  possessing  the  soul,  yet  lurk- 
ing there  and  biding  their  time,  slowly  working, 
never  ceasing,  are  gradually,  but  surely,  bringing  the 
character  of  many  in  this  audience  into  a  permanent 
state  of  love  for  that  which  is  bad,  and  of  hatred  for 
that  which  is  good.  My  unconverted  friend,  your 
thoughts  are  thus  constantly  deciding  what  you  are, 
and  what  you  are  to  be  to  all  eternity.  It  is  written 
thus  in  Revelation.  But  I  do  not  now  urge  Revela- 
tion. It  is  written  thus  in  the  very  constitution  of 
your  being.  Put  the  stress  there,  this  afternoon.  If 
the  Bible  were  destroyed  and  all  its  teachings  were 
forgotten,  the  argument  would  remain  unshaken. 
This  fundamental  fact  is  not  a  fact,  merely  because 
the  Bible  declares  it.  The  Bible  declares  it  only 
because  it  is  a  fact. 

.  We  are  not  now  studying  surface  appearances. 
We  are  searching  for  essential  causes.  We  are  try- 
ing to  follow  the  stream  to  its  source.  And  when 
we  get  to  the  fountain  head,  we  find  that  out  of  the 
thoughts  are  the  issues  of  death  or  of  life.  Thank 
God  that  these  need  not  be  such  issues  of  death  as 
those  which  we  have  been  describing.  They  may  be 
blessed  issues  of  immortal  life.  The  apostle  is  over- 
powered with  the  grandeur  of  this  possibility,  when 
he  exclaims:  "Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatso- 
ever things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just, 


BA  CCALA  UREA TE   ADDRESS.  115 

whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are 
lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report;  if 
there  be  any  virtue,  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on 
these  things."  Keep  the  thoughts  of  the  heart  fixed 
upon  such  themes,  and  your  character  will  be  slowly 
but  surely  transfigured  before  the  world. 

This  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  trying  and  the 
most  ennobling  task  that  can  be  set  for  itself  by  the 
soul.  The  cost  corresponds  with  the  preciousness  of 
the  product.  The  current  of  inclination  and  habit 
sets  the  other  way  with  mighty  volume.  Are  you 
not  obliged  to  confess  a  great  reluctance,  if  not  a 
deeply  seated  repugnance,  concerning  all  such  think- 
ing? Can  you  put  upon  yourself  any  other  strain  so 
great  as  that  of  keeping  the  gaze  steadily  fixed  upon 
the  most  exalted  truths?  Yet  not  till  you  overcome 
this  mental  aversion,  not  till  you  get  such  a  mastery 
of  your  faculties,  that  they  turn  cheerfully  to  these 
employments,  can  you  hope  for  this  transmutation 
of  better  thought  into  better  being. 

I  can  detect  in  some  of  your  faces  a  weariness, 
from  the  effort  to  centre  your  attention  upon  this 
topic,  for  even  half  an  hour.  But  what  you  need, 
what  I  need,  what  every  mortal  needs  is  the  tension 
of  religious  reflection.  If  men  could  be  led  to  give 
the  thoughts  of  the  heart  assiduously  to  these  lofty 
themes  we  should  begin  to  hear  on  every  side  the 
earnest  cry,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?  "  Right 
moral  doing  is  the  natural  sequence  of  right  heart 
thinking. 

The  wicked  man  is  challenged  to  bring  his  mind 
under  the  power  of  the  ideal  of  righteousness,  and 
to  hold  his  mind  there  in  reverent,  prayerful  eager- 
ness. No  wicked  man  can  stand  long  in  that  atti- 


I  I  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

tude,  without  becoming  a  righteous  man.  My  im- 
penitent friend,  that  which  now  forbids  your  salva- 
tion, is  this  one  persistent  fact,  that  you  will  not 
thus  "  think  on  these  things."  If  you  think  at  all  on 
the  subject,  your  thinking  is  mere  speculation,  while 
your  heart  is  wedded  to  the  pleasures  of  sense,  to 
the  glittering  follies  and  the  unholy  ambitions  of 
Vanity  Fair.  "  As  you  think,  in  your  heart,  so  are 
you."  As  you  continue  to  think  in  your  heart,  so 
must  you  continue  to  be  forever.  I  repeat  it,  you 
may  destroy  Old  Testament  and  New;  but  you  can- 
not change  this  constitution  of  the  soul. 

As  the  believer  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he. 
Church  member,  your  ideal  of  Christian  character 
grades  your  character.  You  are  to-day,  essentially, 
what  you  are  required  to  be,  by  the  standard  upon 
which  your  mind  and  heart  are  fixed. 

We  have  now  no  concern  with  those  fleeting  vis- 
ions, which  sometimes  bewitch  the  spiritual  imagina- 
tion, and  which  we  often  miscall  our  ideal.  The  real 
ideal  is  that  which  we  set  before  us  resolutely,  day 
by  day.  Put  that  ideal  higher.  Only  as  that  rises, 
can  we  rise.  As  that  rises,  we  shall  rise — till  "  Be- 
holding as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are 
changed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory." 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class:  During 
the  first  two  terms  of  the  year,  we  were  occupied  to- 
gether, in  studying  mental  and  moral  philosophy. 
The  text  book  work  and  the  lectures  by  Dr.  H.  K. 
Jones  opened  before  us  provinces  of  investigation, 
both  profitable  and  delightful.  The  text  of  the 
afternoon  condenses  into  nine  words  those  six 
months  of  exploration.  It  epitomizes  the  science  of 
the  soul.  In  the  saying,  "as  a  man  thinketh  in  his 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  II>J 

heart,  so  is  he"  you  have  a  combined  definition  of 
psychology  and  ethics,  intellect,  sensibilities,  voli- 
tion, character. 

During  the  spring  term,  we  have  been  separated 
from  one  another,  and  in  different  places.  I  have 
been  engaged  alone,  in  studying  individual  men.  I 
have  been  deeply  interested  in  several  involuntary 
disclosures  of  character.  I  have  also  been  confiden- 
tially admitted  to  the  "  thoughts  of  the  heart"  in  not 
a  few  instances.  Such  relations  are  most  sacred. 
But  there  was  one  case  which  will  always  be  associ- 
ated with  this  text.  It  is  mentioned,  but  in  a  cau- 
tious way,  so  that  no  one  will  so  much  as  suspect  the 

name. 

i 

I  had  been  travelling  several  days,  had  lost  several 
night's  rest,  and  had  engaged  the  quietest  room  at 
a  hotel,  intending  to  be  asleep  by  eight  o'clock.  I 
went  to  meet  a  seven  o'clock  appointment.  I  made 
a  short  but  urgent  appeal,  and  was  about  to  with- 
draw, when  the  gentleman  said  that  I  must  not  go. 
I  sat  down  and  soon  took  no  note  of  time,  as  I  lis- 
tened to  his  views  on  business  and  education.  I  had 
long  admired  him  for  his  financial  ability  and  clear- 
ness of  brain.  The  conversation  increased  the  admir- 
ation. 

It  was  ten  o'clock,  and  supposing  that  there  was 
nothing  further  to  be  said,  I  started  to  my  feet  once 
more.  But  he  told  me  not  to  hurry,  and  then  he 
opened  his  heart,  into  which  I  had  never  before  been 
invited  to  look.  It  was  a  beautiful  revelation.  Said 
I,  "  'The  wind  bloweth  where  itlisteth.'  My  friend, 
I  have  never  known  you  before.  It  is  a  quarter  of 
twelve.  Let  our  talk  begin  here,  when  we  meet 
again.  Good  night." 


Il8  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

"  As  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he." 
My  young  brethren,  what  is  the  thinking  of  your 
heart?    That  makes  character. 

And  in  character  is  wrapped  up  eternal  destiny. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1887. 

"  Thy  Kingdom  Come." — The  Second  Petition  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer. 

GOD  commanded  that  every  fifty  years  the  trum- 
pet of  jubilee  should  be  blown  throughout  the  land 
of  Israel.  The  Christian  Church,  in  imitation  of  the 
Jewish,  should  pass  from  one  half  century  to 
another  with  rejoicing.  But  we  are  not  limited  to 
two  festivals  in  a  century.  Every  anniversary  may 
be  made  bright  with  prophecy,  by  keeping  pace  with 
time,  and  from  the  review  of  fifty  years  just  gone, 
forecasting  the  fifty  years  to  come.  A  century  of 
retrospect  and  a  century  of  prospect  would  lack 
vividness,  for  such  periods  stretch,  respectively, 
beyond  our  memory  in  the  one  direction  and  beyond 
the  possibility  of  our  experience  in  the  other.  A 
quarter  century  of  retrospect  and  a  quarter  century 
of  prospect  would  be  confusing,  from  the  nearness 
of  the  view.  But  when  you  speak  of  the  half  cen- 
tury past,  and  the  half  century  to  come,  the  memory 
of  older  men  and  women  flies  back  to  one  limit, 
and  the  anticipation  of  younger  men  and  women 
sweeps  on  to  the  other.  Thus  personal  interest  is 
secured,  and  trustworthy  data  for  prediction  are 
insured.  Yet,  even  under  these,  the  happiest  con- 
ditions, how  much  depends  upon  the  selection  of 
the  facts  and  the  disposition  of  the  seer? 

The  Queen's  Jubilee  calls  forth  the  Miserere  of  a 
Tennyson  and  the  Gloria  of  a  Gladstone. 


120  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

"  Poor  old  voice  of  eighty  years,  crying  after  voices  that  have 

fled: 

All  I  loved  are  vanished  voices,  all  my  steps  are  on  the  dead." 
"Cries  of  unprogressive  dotage,  ere  the  gray  beard  fall  asleep. 
Noises  of  a  current  narrowing,  not  the  music  of  a  deep." 

Read  the  second  Locksley  Hall,  and  then  listen  to 
that  other  brave  old  voice  of  eighty  years  in  the  pro- 
test which  closes  thus:  "Justice  does  not  require, 
nay  rather  she  forbids,  that  the  Jubilee  of  the  Queen 
be  marred  by  tragic  tones."  Is  it  possible  that  the 
pessimistic  review  by  the  laureate  and  the  optimistic 
estimate  by  the  stateman  concern  the  same  half 
century? 

It  is  just  fifty  years  since  Lovejoy  died,  and  since 
the  city  of  Chicago  was  born.  Up  from  southern 
Illinois  still  come  stories  of  Egyptian  darkness.  But 
what  a  brightening  of  these  moral  skies,  since  the 
Alton  riots  of  '37.  Down  from  northern  Illinois  come 
startling  reports  of  heathenism  in  the  metropolis. 
Well,  shall  we  for  spiritual  refreshment  go  back  to 
Fort  Dearborn  and  the  scalp  dance  of  the  Aborigines  ? 
Notwithstanding  these  multiplying  discouragements 
of  the  prairie  and  these  thickening  perils  of  the  city, 
who  does  not  envy  yonder  boy,  who,  fifty  years  from 
to-day,  shall  bear  witness  to  the  splendid  achieve- 
ments of  Christian  civilization  within  the  common- 
wealth? 

But  the  outlook  which  we  take  this  afternoon  must 
not  be  confined  to  our  own  state,  or  even  to  our  own 
republic.  Let  what  has  been  said  merely  indicate 
the  time  standard  and  spirit  with  which  the  world 
survey  should  be  made. 

FIRST.  Are  we  entering  a  half  century  of  war, 
or  a  half  century  of  peace?  Turn  to  the  other 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  121 

continent,  and  the  political  sky  looks  black  with 
storms.  For  months,  the  air  has  been  heavy  with 
rumors  of  war.  Many  are  affrighted.  Confine  atten- 
tion to  certain  obtrusive  features  of  the  situation,  and 
the  general  prospect  is  most  alarming.  The  standing 
armies  of  the  world  cost  two  billions  of  dollars  yearly. 
France,  Germany  and  Russia  are  the  three  great 
powers  that  seem  most  eager  for  an  outbreak  of  hos- 
tilities. France  has  half  a  million  of  soldiers  ready 
for  service.  Within  twenty  days  she  could  bring  into 
the  field  two  millions  and  a  half  of  men  well 
acquainted  with  military  tactics.  Germany  cannot 
display  forces  quite  as  numerous,  but  she  more  than 
makes  good  the  difference  in  numbers,  by  superiority 
in  discipline.  Russia  enrolls,  on  a  peace  footing, 
eight  hundred  thousand  soldiers,  and  on  a  war  foot- 
ing, four  millions.  Of  the  other  two  great  European 
powers,  Austria  follows  the  lead  of  Germany,  and 
England  grows  yearly  more  reluctant  to  engage  in 
war.  But  even  in  the  case  of  France  and  Germany, 
we  may  be  misled  by  this  great  military  display. 
With  the  former,  it  does  not  mean  what  it  would  have 
meant  in  the  time  of  the  first  Napoleon.  Then  it 
would  have  looked  toward  foreign  conquest.  Now 
the  chief  aim  is  home  defense.  The  Frenchman 
still  loves  glory,  but  experience  has  taught  him  that 
the  way  to  glory  is  in  consolidating  his  power,  rather 
than  in  extending  his  territory.  The  nation  is  forti- 
fying every  exposed  point  in  her  domain,  not  to  es- 
tablish a  base  for  aggressive  warfare,  but  to  make  in- 
vasion impossible.  France  may  go  abroad  to  fight, 
but  her  preference  is  to  be  let  alone  and  let  others 
alone. 

A  united  and  independent  Germany  is  Bismarck's 


122  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

ideal.  It  is  chiefly  to  insure  that,  that  he  preserves 
so  belligerent  a  tone  and  attitude.  That  is  the  only 
safety  of  the  nation,  considering  the  exposure  of  her 
situation  in  all  directions.  Germany,  like  France, 
may  go  abroad  to  fight,  but  her  preference,  also,  is  to 
be  let  alone  and  let  others  alone.  Great  is  the 
change  which  has  come  over  the  spirit  of  her  dream 
these  later  years. 

Russia  only  is  possessed  with  the  old  craze  for 
conquest.  It  begins  to  be  evident  to  the  world  that 
with  covetous  eye  she  is  looking,  beyond  Turkey  to 
the  British  possessions  in  India.  Other  nations  will 
not  permit  this  threatened  overthrow  of  the  balance 
of  power.  Even  if  through  jealously  of  Great  Britain, 
they  were  ready  to  connive  at  the  invasion,  England 
is  better  able  than  ever  before  to  defend  her  Asiatic 
possessions.  The  completion  of  the  Canadian  Paci- 
fic railway  opens  a  new  route  to  India,  which  in  war 
would  be  worth  more  for  the  transportation  of  troops 
and  military  supplies,  than  would  the  Suez  canal, 
hitherto  so  jealously  guarded.  In  short,  all  of  the 
leading  peoples  of  Europe,  with  one  exception,  are 
growing  weary  of  foreign  conquest,  and  it  is  their 
common  interest  to  curb  Russia's  aggressive  spirit. 
The  continental  outlook,  studied  with  this  broad  sweep 
of  vision,  is  brighter  than  it  was  half  a  century  ago. 
The  tendency  of  the  next  fifty  years  will  be  toward 
the  final  establishment  of  national  boundaries. 
When  that  is  accomplished,  the  economic  folly  of 
spending  two  billions  of  dollars  annually  in  military 
display,  will  lead  to  a  general  disbanding  of  the 
great  standing  armies  of  the  world  and  their  transfer 
to  the  various  fields  of  peaceful  and  productive  in- 
dustry. Mankind  are  rapidly  coming  to  the  conclu- 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS. 


123 


sion,  that  the  secret  of  national  glory  lies  not  in 
martial  achievement,  but  in  the  promotion  of  trade, 
commerce,  social  science  and  moral  reform.  Such 
is,  unquestionably,  the  prevailing  world-movement 
of  the  age.  Surface  appearances  may  seem  omin- 
ous of  war,  but  the  mighty  under-current  makes  for 
peace. 

SECOND.  The  coming  half  century  of  comparative 
quiet  among  the  nations  is  to  be  a  period  of  good 
will  among  men.  Sectarian  narrowness  and  bitter- 
ness are  disappearing.  Fifty  years  hence,  jealous 
rivalry  will  be  supplanted  by  generous  emulation 
among  the  denominations.  Energies  once  worse 
than  wasted  in  strife  will  manifest  themselves  in  a 
quickened  philanthropy.  Already  public  and  private 
chanties  for  the  helpless  multiply.  Hospitals  for  the 
curable  insane  and  asylums  for  the  incurable,  bear 
witness  to  the  spread  of  Christian  compassion.  In- 
stitutions for  the  blind  and  for  the  deaf  and  dumb, 
from  year  to  year  make  nobler  provision  for  those 
that  must  walk  in  the  darkness  and  in  the  silence. 
Fresh  interest  is  shown  in  prison  reform.  I  stepped 
into  the  House  of  Representatives  at  Springfield, 
last  Thursday  morning,  ignorant  of  the  order  of  the 
day,  and  the  first  words  that  fell  upon  my  ear  were 
from  the  lips  of  one  of  our  honored  college  trustees, 
pleading  for  prison  reform.  While  self-protection 
must  continue  to  be  the  first  law  of  society,  the  well- 
being  of  the  criminal  class  is  destined  to  receive 
greater  attention. 

We  are  entering  on  a  new  era  in  education,  prim- 
ary, intermediate  and  higher.  The  close  of  our  half 
century  will  see  our  worthier  colleges  comfortably 
endowed  for  their  beneficent  work.  Ere  then  our 


124  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

leading  universities  will  cease  to  blush  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Cambridge,  Oxford  and  Berlin. 

The  younger  members  of  this  audience  will  live  to 
see  somewhat  of  order  and  beauty  growing  out  of 
the  present  chaotic  relations  of  economics  and 
ethics.  Theoretical  and  practical  social  science  will 
prove  within  fifty  years,  that  commercial  competi- 
tion and  Christian  benevolence  rightly  understood 
are  not  antagonistic  laws.  There  can  be  no  social 
science  worthy  of  the  name  that  does  not  approach 
the  relations  of  men  to  one  another,  individually  and 
collectively,  in  the  spirit  of  the  New  Testament.  It 
is  well  to  discuss  the  subject  through  the  papers,  in 
the  reviews,  on  the  platform  and  behind  the  pulpit. 
Rays  of  light  are  welcome  from  all  these  sources. 
But  they  fail  to  move  the  vast  majority  of  mankind. 
The  chief  hope  of  social  science  for  the  next  half 
century  lies  in  the  line  of  home  evangelization  and, 
especially,  of  city  evangelization.  Patriotism  shud- 
ders for  the  fate  of  the  republic,  in  view  of  the 
thickening  dangers  in  our  great  centers  of  popula- 
tion. Police  stations  and  school-houses  and  up-town 
churches,  valuable  though  they  be,  are  utterly  inade- 
quate defences.  Alas  for  the  nation,  unless  the 
ignorant,  barbarian,  incontinent,  fierce  rum-ruled 
hordes  that  are  pouring  in  upon  us,  be  speedily 
brought  under  the  power  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ ! 
Impending  peril  is  awakening  the  churches  to  a 
sense  of  their  responsibility.  There  is  a  vague  feeling 
that  something  must  be  done,  and  done  quickly. 
Noble  efforts  are  made  by  individuals  and  by 
churches.  But  you  nowhere  discover  comprehensive 
plans  for  steady,  methodical,  aggressive  evangeliza- 
tion. Yet  I  believe  that  out  of  all  the  confusion  of 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  125 

this  new  spiritual  awakening  among  God's  people, 
there  is  to  come  upon  the  cities  of  America  a  more 
wonderful  evangelistic  movement  than  swept  through 
the  cities  of  Asia  Minor  in  the  days  of  the  apostles. 
The  next  half  century  will  not  see  Boston  and  New 
York  and  San  Francisco  and  St.  Louis  and  Chicago 
Christianized,  but  it  will  see  them  Evangelized  to  the 
salvation  of  the  republic. 

THIRD.  Those  of  you  who  are  here  fifty  years 
hence  will  look  out  upon  a  WORLD,  not  Christianized, 
but  Evangelized.  You  have  all  seen  in  missionary 
charts  and  magazines  that  black  diagram,  which  shows 
heathenism  resting  like  a  pall  upon  the  vast  majority 
of  mankind.  There  are  some  whom  such  a  study 
will  arouse  to  fiery  zeal  to  rescue  the  perishing.  But 
there  are  others  in  whom  it  may  produce  a  sense  of 
depression  and  hopelessness,  which  will  strike  relig- 
ious activity  with  paralysis.  It  is  not  well  for  such 
to  brood  over  the  suggestions  of  that  diagram.  Take, 
instead,  an  outline  map  of  the  planet;  follow  Bain- 
bridge  in  his  two  years  missionary  tour  around  the 
world;  set  a  silver  star  at  every  mission  station,  and, 
when  you  are  done,  hold  your  map  where  the  sun 
can  shine  upon  it.  Night  does  shroud  the  moral  fir- 
mament. Nevertheless,  those  same  heavens  declare 
God's  coming  glory.  On  islands  recently  reeking 
with  orgies  of  cannibalism,  Christ  is  King.  Who 
would  have  thought  it  possible  a  generation  ago, 
that  we  should  see  a  Christian  appointed  minister  of 
finance,  in  the  Turkish  empire?  What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  a  Christian  college  in  Eden,  where  the  race 
learned  its  first  lesson  of  good  and  evil?  Is  there  no 
inspiration  in  the  sight  of  two  thousand  Sunday 
school  children  marching  through  the  streets  of 


126  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Lucknow,  which  not  long  ago  witnessed  the  worst 
horrors  of  the  Sepoy  rebellion  ?  Can  we  wonder,  that 
even  the  positivist,  St.  Hilaire,  in  his  amazement  at 
the  spread  of  Christianity  among  the  Hindoos,  is 
constrained  to  predict,  that  the  whole  population  of 
India  will  at  length  spontaneously  embrace  the  relig- 
ion of  her  English  conqueror?  Only  the  other  month, 
Christendom  heard,  with  delight,  the  proclamation 
of  religious  toleration  throughout  the  Chinese  em- 
pire. There  is  no  wildness  in  the  prophecy  of  Dr. 
Williams,  that,  at  the  present  rate  of  progress,  fifty 
years  will  make  China  nominally  Christian.  That 
will  be  to  our  children  no  greater  marvel,  than  is  to 
you  and  me  the  fact,  that,  in  the  city  on  the  Tiber, 
within  sight  of  the  Vatican,  more  than  a  score  of 
spires  rise  toward  Heaven — -protestant. 

Five  thousand  missionaries — thirty  thousand  native 
helpers — ministering  to-day  to  half  a  million  church 
members  and  to  two  millions  of  adherents!!!  If  this 
be  the  result,  against  the  opposition  of  the  world, 
what  may  we  not  expect,  now  that  obstacles  are  dis- 
appearing, and  the  whole  world  grows  clamorous  for 
the  gospel  ?  Missionary  enterprise  presses  the  steam- 
boat and  the  locomotive  into  the  service  of  the  Most 
High.  The  railroad  train,  which  has  already  aroused 
India  from  her  long  Nirvana  dream,  is  impatient  to 
awake  the  Chinese  empire  from  her  sleep  of  ages. 
The  steamers  that  are  multiplying  on  the  water-ways 
of  Africa  mean  death  to  the  slave-trade,  as  they  carry 
from  the  interior  to  the  ocean  loads  of  ivory  hitherto 
borne  by  captives  to  the  sea-coast,  and  sold  there 
with  the  victims  of  the  trader's  accursed  greed. 

But  God  has  nobler  agencies  than  commerce  can 
bring  into  action.  Men  and  women,  with  new  eager- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 


127 


ness,  obey  His  call.  The  girl  in  the  seminary,  the 
boy  in  the  college,  the  teacher  in  the  academy  and 
the  pastor  in  the  metropolis,  with  the  same  enthu- 
siasm, set  their  faces  toward  Japan.  Within  a  year, 
the  dews  of  our  own  Mt.  Hermon  become' a  swelling 
stream,  which  is  flowing  to  gladden  the  very  ends  of 
the  earth.  Our  young  men  see  new  visions  of  a  glory 
not  of  this  world,  and  our  old  men  dream  new  dreams 
of  thy  coming  kingdom,  O  God.  While  the  thought 
of  the  American  college  goes  out  to  the  realm  of  the 
Mikado,  the  brain  and  brawn  of  the  English  univer- 
sity are  attracted  to  "the  land  of  flowers."  And  is 
there  no  over-ruling  Providence  in  the  fact,  that  the 
China  Inland  Mission,  the  mission  in  special  danger 
of  becoming  the  prey  of  fanaticism,  should,  at  this 
juncture  of  affairs,  be  strengthened  by  men  universi- 
ty-bred, so  that  zeal  may  be  better  tempered  with 
knowledge? 

In  harmony  with  this  remarkable  student  move- 
ment, is  the  still  more  wonderful  woman  movement 
of  our  generation.  While  the  religion  of  Christ 
recognizes  no  distinction  of  sex  for  the  life  to  come, 
it  is,  in  this  world,  of  more  vital  importance  to  wo- 
man than  to  man.  Recognizing  the  fact,  her  heart 
glows  with  ever  increasing  ardor  for  the  regenera- 
tion of  the  race.  Without  forgetting  that  her  first 
mission  is  at  home,  she  realizes  that  she  has  also  a 
most  important  mission  abroad.  Man  likewise,  is 
gradually  forced  to  admit  it,  as  he  finds  himself  un- 
able to  gain  access  to  the  home  life  of  Asia,  while 
woman  daintily  embroiders  a  slipper,  which,  in  her 
hand,  becomes  the  "open  sesame"  to  the  zenanas  of 
India.  Did  not  a  female  physician  in  the  Methodist 
mission  bring  back  from  the  borders  of  the  grave  the 


128  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

wife  of  the  grand  viceroy,  Hung  Chang,  and  through 
the  influence  thus  obtained,  save  the  Burlingame 
treaty  from  impending  defeat?  Not  Siddhartha,  but 
Woman,  is  "The  Light  of  Asia." 

We  sometimes  hear  the  lament  that  the  days  of 
Christian  heroism  are  past,  that  we  shall  see  no  more 
Careys  and  Judsons,  that  the  martyr  spirit  was  buried 
with  the  heart  of  Livingstone,  in  the  heart  of  Africa. 
Read  the  story  of  Father  Damiens,  the  Apostle  of 
the  lepers  on  the  island  of  Molokai.  The  history  of 
the  church  does  not  contain  a  nobler  example,  than 
the  consecration  of  that  young  priest  to  the  service 
of  those  afflicted  with  a  loathsome  and  incurable 
malady,  through  the  contagion  of  which  he  himself 
dropping  to  pieces,  little  by  little,  day  by  day,  has, 
at  last,  fallen  into  a  compassionate  grave.  Bishop 
Hannington,  of  the  church  which  is  sometimes 
taunted  for  retaining  the  form  of  Godliness  without 
the  power  thereof,  died  the  death  of  the  martyr,  in 
Africa,  not  many  months  ago.  Since  then  fifty  En- 
glishmen have  volunteered  to  reinforce  his  mission 
there.  "The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  still  the  seed  of 
the  church." 

"But  alas,"  says  some  one,  "there  is  no  money 
movement  to  sustain  all  this  new-born  eagerness  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature;  and  ardor  will 
presently  grow  cold,  from  lack  of 'cash  to  balance.'" 
Such  apprehension  is  natural.  Remember  this,  how- 
ever; while,  within  the  last  eight  years,  the  number 
of  ordained  missionaries  has  increased  fifty  per  cent., 
contributions  have  increased  seventy  per  cent.;  and 
depend  upon  it  that  this  quickened  flow  of  the  heart 
will  be  followed  by  a  quickened  flow  of  the  currency. 
We  are  entering  upon  a  new  era  in  the  consecration 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  I2() 

of  money  to  the  evangelization  of  the  world.  As 
last  Sunday,  I  put  into  the  contribution  plate  for  this 
purpose  my  pittance,  only  sorry  that  it  must  be  so 
small,  but  glad  that  it  might  be  something,  I  was 
thrilled  as  never  before  by  the  thought  of  the  rich 
man's  opportunity,  of  his  possibilities  of  unbounded 
joy,  in  the  consecration  of  thousands  and  tens  of 
of  thousands  to  this,  the  grandest  enterprise  of  all 
the  ages,  now  hastening  to  its  consummation.  One- 
third  of  the  wealth  of  the  United  States  is  in  the 
hands  of  Christians.  God's  people  are  no  longer 
poor.  The  Master  saith  to  his  disciples,  in  a  materi- 
al, as  well  as  in  a  spiritual  sense:  "Freely  you  have 
received,  freely  give."  That  command  must  be,  will 
be  heard  and  obeyed. 

I  emphasize  once  more  the  sentiment  of  this 
address:  The  world,  not  Christianized,  but  evangel- 
ized, in  half  a  century.  In  Oxford  University,  the  pro- 
fessor of  Sanscrit,  after  the  most  exhaustive  research, 
testifies  that  Christianity  to-day  outranks  every  other 
religion,  in  number  of  its  adherents.  Already,  nearly 
one-third  of  the  population  of  the  planet  recognizes 
the  supremacy  of  the  Redeemer.  Who,  now,  are  the 
chosen  of  the  Lord,  to  lead  the  way  in  publishing 
the  tidings  of  great  joy  throughout  the  earth? 

France  is  making  noble  progress  in  the  direction 
of  religious  liberty;  but  by  the  time  she  has  emanci- 
pated herself  from  superstition  and  atheism,  and 
qualified  herself  to  be  the  herald  of  righteousness, 
the  gospel  will  be  preached  to  every  creature. 

Germany  let  slip  the  opportunity  which  came  with- 
in her  reach  through  the  reformation  of  the  i6th 
century.     Rationalism  is  yielding  rapidly  to  a  rever 
ent  and  aggressive  faith,  but  the  change  has  begun  so 


130 


SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 


recently,  that  Germany,  though  she  may  bring  up  the 
rear  most  solidly,  cannot  lead  the  van,  during  the 
half  century  within  which  the  world  is  to  be  evan- 
gelized. 

America  and  England,  representing  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race,  are  appointed  of  God,  to  be  known  in 
history  as  the  nations  that  planted  the  standard  of 
the  cross  throughout  the  realms  of  heathendom. 
To-day  three-fourths  of  all  the  missionary  societies 
are  American  and  English.  To-day  two-thirds  of 
all  the  funds  given  to  missions  come  from  America 
and  England.  Year  by  year  the  Anglo-Saxon  con- 
tributions, both  of  men  and  of  money,  grow,  rela- 
tively, larger  and  larger.  This  missionary  mission  is 
the  crowning  glory  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  No  other 
race  has  had  so  grand  a  religious  opportunity.  The 
outlook  is  upon  a  world  expectant  of  glad  tidings. 
The  uplook  reveals  an  open  heaven  and  a  risen  Lord; 
the  brightening  prospects  of  whose  kingdom  are  a 
new  inspiration  to  his  people. 

Said  Mary  Somerville:  "The  time  has  come  when 
I  must  go  hence.  I  leave  the  world  with  only  two 
regrets.  Would  that  I  could  wait  till  the  sources  of 
the  Nile  are  discovered  by  Livingstone!  Would 
tha{  I  could  live  to  see  the  distance  between  the 
earth  and  the  sun  determined  by  the  transit  of 
Venus!" 

Akin  to  this  scientific  yearning,  which  would  pen- 
etrate the  mysteries  that  hang  over  the  dark  regions 
of  the  earth,  and  would  discover  the  secrets  that  are 
hidden  in  the  heavenly  places  where  light  abid- 
eth,  is  the  spiritual  longing  of  many  hearts  here  this 
afternoon.  Why  cannot  we  who  are  older,  as  well 
as  ye  who  are  younger,  tarry  a  little  longer,  to  be- 


BA  CCALA  UREA  TE  ADDRESS.  131 

hold  what  ye  shall  behold  fifty  years  hence;  all  the 
benighted  portions  of  the  planet  brought  under  the 
direct  influence  of  Him  who  is  "The  Light  of  the 
World" — Evangelized;  and  also  to  be  Christianized, 
in  the  fulness  of  time. 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class :  Enter, 
with  rejoicing,  this  half  century  which  is  to  fill  out 
your  natural  three  score  years  and  ten.  Most  fortu- 
nate are  they  whose  manhood  is  bounded  by  a 
period  destined  to  be  so  illustrious.  The  book  that 
I  loved  most  in  childhood  was  an  old  red-bound 
volume  which  described  the  heroes  of  the  American 
revolution.  As  I  thumbed  those  pages  over  and 
over,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  world  could  never 
again  look  upon  achievements  so  noble,  generals  so 
patriotic,  commander -in -chief  so  magnanimous. 
How  I  used  to  lament  that  I  had  not  lived  just  across 
the  century  line  so  that  I  could  have  witnessed  those 
thrilling  scenes,  watched  the  principal  actors  therein, 
studied  the  benignant  face  of  Washington  and  joined 
in  the  procession  to  Mount  Vernon. 

But  the  other  week  I  went  to  Oak  Ridge  to  see 
the  final  arrangements  within  the  monument.  There 
in  the  memorial  chamber  was  the  well-worn  sur- 
veyor's chain;  there  was  the  old  compass,  with  the 
needle  pointing  as  it  did  when  Lincoln  ran  the  lines 
only  a  few  miles  from  where  we  stand,  and  straight- 
way to  imagination  the  muddy  Sangamon  became  a 
more  historic  stream  than  the  Scamander  of  which 
Homer  loved  to  sing — and  next  the  eye  caught  the 
blood-stains  on  the  robe  of  Laura  Keene,  immortal- 
ized by  that  awful  tragedy — and  then  across  the  field 
of  memory  swept  the  vanished  half  century  with  its 
moral  agitations,  its  political  revolutions,  its  mighty 


132  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

march  of  inspiring  ideas.  And  I  said  to  myself,  how 
short  sighted  was  the  boy  who  used  to  look  back- 
ward and  sigh  that  he  could  not  have  lived  when  the 
thirteen  colonies  published  the  Declaration  and 
fought  their  way  to  Independence !  It  is  better  to 
have  been  a  witness  of  the  Re-generation.  Bunker 
Hill  and  Trenton  and  Yorktown  are  less  than  Shiloh 
and  Gettysburg  and  Richmond.  Shall  one  be  con- 
sumed with  regret  that  he  never  saw  the  faces  of 
Warren  and  Greene  and  LaFayette,  after  he  has 
heard  the  voices  of  Grant  and  Sherman  and  Sheri- 
dan? 

You  also,  my  friends,  have  often  said  to  yourselves, 
impatiently,  why  could  not  we  have  come  to  our 
manhood  a  generation  ago?  Why  could  not  we  have 
had  some  part  in  those  grand  affairs?  Why  need 
we  be  confined  to  these  plodding,  uneventful  years? 
Believe  me,  yours  is  a  still  more  exalted  privilege. 
You  are  to  see  the  world  evangelized.  Mount  Vernon 
tells  of  a  nation  born.  Oak  Ridge  is  eloquent  of  a 
republic  saved.  But  Gethsemane's  cry  is  possible 
redemption  for  all  mankind.  And  the  half  century 
which  stretches  out  before  you  is  the  half  century 
chosen  of  Jehovah  for  the  proclamation  of  salvation 
to  every  race  and  people  and  tribe  under  the  whole 
heaven. 

And  now,  as  we  bid  you  an  affectionate  farewell, 
here  upon  the  threshold  of  the  untried,  we  solemnly 
charge  you  to  heed  the  high  calling  of  your  half 
century.  Choose  that  vocation  in  which  you  can  do 
most  for  the  coming  of  the  kingdom,  and  be  hap- 
piest in  the  King's  jubilee. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 

BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1888. 

"And  the  house,  when  it  was  in  building,  was  built  of  stone 
made  ready  before  it  was  brought  thither;  so  that  there  was 
neither  hammer,  nor  ax,  nor  any  tool  of  iron,  heard  in  the  house 
when  it  was  in  building." — I  Kings  vi:  7. 

In  the  first  struggling  dawn  of  a  winter  morning, 
I  was  approaching  the  city  of  Washington.  Drawing 
aside  a  curtain  of  the  palace  car,  I  saw  in  the  distance, 
as  if  it  were  let  down  from  heaven,  what  looked  like 
a  great  globe,  spectral-white.  I  studied  it  a  moment 
in  wonder,  and  then  the  thought  flashed  upon  me  that 
the  seeming  apparition  was  the  lofty  dome  of  the 
national  capitol.  The  pulse  quickened  and  the  breath 
came  faster,  as  the  eye  rested  upon  that  silent  emblem 
of  the  majesty  of  the  republic.  I  realized  the  emo- 
tion of  the  moslem  pilgrim,  when  Mecca  breaks  in 
view,  and  he  exclaims  in  awe:  "Allah  Akbar!"  "Gcd 
is  great!"  I  sympathized  with  the  devout  Catholic, 
when  he  looks  for  the  first  time  upon  the  dome  of 
St.  Peter.  I  understood,  as  never  before,  what  must 
have  been  the  feeling  of  the  Jew,  when  he  went  up 
to  the  metropolis  and  gazed  upon  that  temple,  built 
without  sound  of  ax,  or  hammer,  or  tool  of  iron,  a 
voiceless  witness  to  the  blessedness  of  that  nation 
whose  ruler  is  Jehovah. 

The  completion  of  that  structure  was  the  crown- 
ing glory  of  the  reign  of  Solomon.  There  is  no 
more  significant  object  lesson  in  history.  The  plan 
was  unique  in  conception  and  in  execution.  The 
edifice  rose  before  the  world,  a  most  impressive  visi- 


134  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

ble  manifestation  of  the  doctrine,  that  the  Omnipo- 
tent chooseth  secrecy  and  stillness  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  designs.  It  said  to  the  eye  under 
the  old  dispensation,  what  Jesus  said  to  the  ear  under 
the  new  dispensation:  "The  Kingdom  of  God  com- 
eth  not  with  observation."  The  rising  of  one  stone 
upon  another,  without  the  sound  of  ax,  or  hammer, 
or  tool  of  iron,  was  like  the  growing  of  the  mustard 
seed,  and  the  working  of  the  hidden  leaven.  You 
cannot  find  a  happier  illustration  of  the  unity  of 
purpose  between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New. 

And  when  you  close  this  volume  of  written  Reve- 
lation, you  may  discover  the  same  doctrine  in  nature 
and  in  life. 

The  generation  is  mechanical.  Wheels  and  cogs 
and  iron  bands  preach  their  gospel  with  ceaseless 
clatter,  rattle  and  clang.  It  is  a  genuine  gospel. 
God  forbid  that  we  should  decry  the  source  of  bless- 
ings manifold  unto  mankind.  Dynamite  and  ex- 
plosives of  every  description  have  their  mission  of 
beneficence.  Worthless  to  the  world  is  the  recluse, 
who  betakes  himself  to  the  solitudes,  affrighted  by 
the  din  and  uproar  inseparable  from  modern  civiliza- 
tion. 

Still  the  times  do  not  demand  an  increase  of  the 
apostles  of  these  noisy  self-asserting  agencies. 
There  will  always  be  sufficient  Popular  Science 
monthlies  and  Scientific  Americans  to  crowd  such 
instrumentalities  to  the  front.  But  we  are  in  danger 
of  underrating  those  forces  and  activities  which 
operate,  invisibly  and  inaudibly.  The  passing  parox- 
ysm of  the  volcano  and  the  earthquake,  so  engross 
our  thought,  that  we  heed  not  those  far  greater 
wonders  of  the  planet,  the  quiet  deposition  of  the 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  135 

strata,  in  progress  for  untold  ages,  and  the  gradual 
preparation  of  the  earth  to  become  the  home  of 
ever-advancing  types  of  life.  The  shriek  of  the 
steam  whistle,  and  the  revolution  of  the  driving-wheel 
absorb  the  attention  of  the  multitude,  who  never 
reflect  upon  the  whirling  of  the  nebulae,  and  the 
secret  of  the  noisy,  obtrusive  spectacle,  in  the  burial 
of  the  sun's  light,  heat  and  motive  power,  in  the  coal 
measures  of  the  carboniferous  era. 

The  cry  of  fire  is  heard.  The  engine  thunders 
along  the  street.  The  hose  is  adjusted,  and,  pres- 
ently, a  stream  of  water  is  driven  to  the  topmost 
story  of  the  burning  building.  As  the  raging  flames 
give  way,  you  look  with  loving  admiration  upon 
the  panting  fire-king,  and  rightly  exclaim,  wonder- 
ful, wonderful  power !  Go  out  into  the  forest  some 
calm  summer  day.  The  foliage  is  motionless.  The 
stillness  is  oppressive.  But,  all  around,  innumerabfe 
force-pumps  are  driving  the  water  up  from  its  reser- 
voirs, through  trunks,  and  limbs,  and  leaves.  Com- 
pared with  this  silent  agency,  how  insignificant  is  the 
power  displayed  by  that  noisy  engine!  The  latter 
quenches  what  is  destroying  one  of  the  perishing 
structures  of  man.  The  former  sustains  the  forest, 
that  casts  upon  the  earth,  as  it  were,  the  very  shadow 
of  God. 

From  Alpine  height,  a  ponderous  boulder  comes 
crashing  down,  to  smite  the  glittering  face  of  Swit- 
zerland's icy  wonder,  Mer  De  Glace.  What  cares  the 
glacier?  With  leisurely  contempt,  it  bears  the  monster 
on,  to  cast  it  off  at  the  foot  of  the  moraine.  But  that 
huge  thing,  in  its  first  descent,  frightens  a  pebble 
from  its  resting  place,  and  drives  it  out  upon  that 
solid,  shining  river.  And  the  pebble  grows  warm 


136  SERMONS  AND    ADDRESSES. 

from  solar  heat,  and  slowly  settles  beneath  the  sur- 
face; and  rills  of  water  come,  and  set  it  grinding 
there;  and  that  pocket  is  worn  larger  and  deeper; 
and,  by  and  by,  that  tiny  stone  finds  its  way  down 
to  the  very  heart  of  the  glacier. 

Long  years  ago,  a  friend  and  I  were  spending  a 
short  vacation  among  the  Coast  Mountains.  On  Sat- 
urday, we  reached  Astoria,  a  town  rendered  historic 
by  the  enterprise  of  John  Jacob  Astor  and  by  the  pen 
of  Washington  Irving.  The  village  is  situated  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  which,  because  of  its 
wrathful  waters,  was  called,  by  Theodore  Winthrop, 
the  "Achilles  of  Rivers."  The  stream  is  there  seven 
miles  in  width.  Across  it  extends  a  line  of  breakers, 
the  dread  of  mariners.  Upon  that  reef  many  gallant 
ships  have  been  broken  in  pieces.  There  are  but 
two  narrow  channels  through  which  vessels  may  pass 
in  safety.  On  the  morning  after  our  arrival,  as  we 
were  not  presentable  for  church,  we  went  below  the 
town  to  spend  the  hours  alone.  The  shore  was 
sloping,  like  the  beach  of  the  sea.  Throwing  our 
blankets  down,  and  ourselves  upon  them,  we 
turned  our  faces  ocean-ward.  As  the  current  of 
the  river  swept  west-ward,  it  struck  upon  that  rocky 
barrier,  and  the  water  was  dashed  backward  and  up- 
ward, fifty,  sixty  feet.  Then  as  the  waves  came 
rolling  in  from  the  Pacific,  and  threw  themselves 
upon  that  defiant  reef,  they  were  hurled  back- 
ward seventy-five,  a  hundred  feet.  We  watched  the 
sight  awhile,  in  wondering  silence,  and  then  found 
ourselves  talking  naturally  of  forces  material  and 
forces  spiritual,  of  political  convulsions  and  of  those 
who  had  figured  in  them;  of  moral  revolutions  and  of 
the  actors  therein,  our  faces,  all  the  time  turned  ocean- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  137 

ward.  Meanwhile,  slowly  up  that  shelving  shore, 
the  silent  tide  was  stealing.  At  last  it  touched  our 
feet.  That  was  the  first  intimation  of  its  coming. 
In  the  rear  there  was  a  slight  depression,  and  along 
that  hollow  path  the  noiseless  water  was  creeping. 
The  place  where  we  are  lying  will  soon  become  an 
island;  the  island  will  grow  smaller  and  smaller; 
presently  there  will  be  no  island.  Ah!  said  we  both, 
as  we  retreated  to  a  higher  station,  the  power  is  not 
all  down  there  among  those  roaring  breakers.  Here 
is  a  mightier  force  in  this  voiceless  tide.  That  bat- 
tle of  the  elements  can  be  seen  and  heard  only  a 
little  distance.  But  here  is  an  influence  that  is  felt 
away  up  the  river  yonder,  farther  than  eye  can  pene- 
trate, or  ear  catch  the  sound. 

The  lesson  is  the  same  when  you  turn  from  physi- 
cal phenomena  to  study  the  progress  of  civilization- 
What  is  the  true  philosophy  of  history?  The  ques- 
tion is  usually  answered  in  one  of  two  ways.  Ma- 
caulay  and  Carlyle  are  the  best  representatives  of 
those  who  offer  one  explanation;  Knight  and  Mc- 
Master  are  the  best  representatives  of  those  who 
present  the  other.  Macaulay  selects  brilliant  epochs 
and  striking  characters,  paints  them  with  all  the 
splendors  of  his  marvelous  imagination;  and  declares 
that  such  are  the  agencies  which  have  decided  the 
destinies  of  the  race.  Carlyle,  caring  less  for  rhetoric 
and  stage  effect,  with  extravagant  ruggedness,  exalts 
gigantic  prowess,  whether  it  be  like  that  of  a  Samson 
or  of  a  Frederick  the  Great,  proclaiming  that  men 
like  these  rule  their  own  generation,  and  lay  down 
the  law  which  governs  the  generation  following. 
Macaulay  and  Carlyle  are  in  substantial  accord,  inas- 
much as  they  seek  to  trace  the  general  course  of 


SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

events  to  the  few  who  have  been  conspicuous  actors 
in  the  drama  of  the  ages.  On  the  other  side,  Knight 
and  McMaster,  while  acknowledging  the  influence 
of  those  who  have  thus  stood  in  the  foreground  of 
affairs,  stoutly  maintain  that  such  men,  though  seem- 
ingly autocratic  in  swaying  events,  are  really  thrust 
into  position,  and  held  there  by  forces  which  proceed 
from  the  people. 

These  two  conflicting  views  give  the  world  two 
different  kinds  of  histories.  Contrast  Macaulay's 
History  of  England  and  Knight's  History  of  the 
English  People,  the  materials  selected  by  a  Carlyle 
and  the  materials  selected  by  a  McMaster. 

Is  either  philosophy  of  civilization  complete  in 
itself,  and  exclusive  of  the  other?  One  certainly 
makes  a  more  fascinating  story  than  the  other.  The 
first  invokes  sentiment  and  romance.  The  second 
suggests  no  genius,  except  the  genius  of  the  com- 
monplace and  the  homely.  Either  needs  the  other. 

This  is  the  true  statement  of  the  case.  The  farther 
you  go  back  into  antiquity,  the  greater  is  the  power 
of  a  few  individuals,  remarkable,  either  for  physical 
or  mental  endowments.  With  every  added  century, 
the  importance  of  such  individuals  diminishes,  and 
the  importance  of  the  multitude  increases.  The  first 
principle  would  naturally  govern  in  writing  the  annals 
of  the  Roman  republic,  the  second  in  writing  the 
annals  of  the  American  republic.  The  history  of 
antiquity  is  substantially  the  history  of  the  few.  It 
will  remain  so.  The  history  of  the  future  will  be 
substantially  the  history  of  the  many.  In  olden 
times,  the  man  made  the  era.  Now  the  era  makes 
the  man.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  in  the 
days  of  Alexander  forces  were  in  operation  which 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  139 

would  then  have  produced  the  same  results,  if  he 
had  been  strangled  in  his  cradle.  It  is  not  likely 
that  there  were  many  other  cradles  in  which  were 
lying  possible  Alexanders,  some  one  of  whom  would 
have  had  Alexander's  illustrious  career,  had  he  come 
to  an  untimely  end.  But,  had  that  plot  succeeded, 
which  was  formed  to  destroy  Abraham  Lincoln,  on 
his  way  to  Washington  for  inauguration,  though  the 
course  of  events  would  have  been  retarded  some- 
what, there  would  have  appeared  another,  compe- 
tent to  work  out  the  same  political  problem.  General 
Grant  once  put  the  idea  very  tersely,  at  a  banquet 
given  in  his  honor.  Said  he,  "  I  must  dissent  from 
the  remark  that  I  saved  the  country,  during  the 
recent  war.  If  our  country  could  be  either  saved 
or  ruined  by  any  one  man,  we  should  not  have  a 
country,  and  we  should  not  be  celebrating  the  Fourth 
of  July.  If  I  had  never  held  command,  if  I  had 
fallen,  if  all  our  generals  had  fallen,  there  were  ten 
thousand  behind  us  who  would  have  done  the  work 
just  as  well." 

To  utter  such  sentiments  does  not  belittle  bene- 
factors, does  not  aim  a  blow  at  hero-worship.  It 
simply  sets  in  bold  relief  the  fact,  that  still  mightier 
than  the  force  which  startles  the  world  with  grand 
display,  is  the  hidden  principle,  noiselessly  gather- 
ing its  stores  of 'power,  till  it  must  have  expression, 
and  then  compelling  the  ready  herald  to  arise  and 
utter  the  proclamation,  and  the  waiting  chieftain,  to 
enforce  the  message,  with  all  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance and  horror  of  war.  It  is  not  denied  that  the 
representative  men  of  modern  epochs  even,  have  a 
mighty  reflex  influence  upon  their  times.  Their 
freedom  and  moulding  agency  in  the  revolutions 


140  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

which  take  place,  are  .fully  acknowledged,  still  the 
fact  remains,  that  they  are  greater  debtors  to  the 
movements  of  the  period,  than  are  the  movements 
of  the  period  to  them.  It  is  sufficient  honor  for 
any  man,  to  catch  the  preference  of  his  generation, 
adapt  himself  to  it,  divine  its  tendency,  and  have 
a  noble  part  in  shaping  that  tendency  to  ends  most 
beneficent.  Ill  does  it  become  such  a  one  to  mag- 
nify effects,  and  the  importance  of  his  own  imme- 
diate agency,  and  thus  seek  not  the  great  underlying 
ultimate  causes,  without  which  he  would  remain  un- 
known. 

The  same  principle  finds  illustration  in  the  building 
of  institutions  of  learning.     They  rise,  like  Solomon's 
temple  without  sound  of  ax,  or  hammer,  or  tool  of 
iron.  There  are  exceptions,  like  the  proposed  Stanford 
University  in  California,  but  they  are  so  few  that  they 
only  prove  the  rule.     Palaces  of  trade  and  chambers 
of  commerce  are  noisy  in  construction  and  obtrusive 
in  their  work.     This  is  not  said,  as  a  ground  of  re- 
proach. They  thus  best  subserve  the  ends  of  their  ex- 
istence. Everything  should  be  "after  its  kind."  There 
is  a  prevailing  law  of  life  in  agencies,  human  and  di- 
vine.   It  is  unwise  to  try  to  crowd  one  type  into  con- 
formity with  another.    By  favoring  the  freest  develop- 
ment of  each,  we  contribute  most  to  the  well-being  of 
the  world.    The  sound  of  hammer  and  ax  and  tool  of 
iron  in  manufactories  and  rolling  mills  is  presumptive 
evidence  of  their  prosperity.     Silence,  there,  means 
bankruptcy  to  the    capitalist  and  starvation  to  the 
laborer.     A  furnace  in  blast  gladdens  the  heart,  for 
it  speaks  of  productive  consumption.     It  chills,  like 
walking  through  a  graveyard,  to  travel  through  a 
manufacturing  region  where  the  fires  are  drawn  and 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  141 

the  smoke-stacks  stand  black  and  breathless.  A  full 
anvil  chorus  is  the  only  music  in  harmony  with  the 
surroundings.  Furthermore,  let  us  not  indulge  in 
the  common  folly  of  trying  to  put  a  rolling  mill 
into  one  end  of  the  scale  and  a  college  into  the  other, 
to  ascertain  their  comparative  value  to  the  world. 
The  two  are  different  in  kind,  and  they  must  be 
measured  by  different  standards.  Instead  of  engag- 
ing in  an  endless  and  profitless  debate,  respecting 
their  relative  importance,  why  not,  at  once,  acknowl- 
edge their  discrete  nature  and  rejoice  in  the  blessings 
which  both  confer.  Give  us  the  tongs  of  Vulcan,  but 
bring  also  the  harp  of  Apollo.  The  human  race  needs 
both  for  its  comfort  and  gladness.  Neither  should  be 
degraded  for  the  exaltation  of  the  other.  Let  each 
have  its  day  of  celebration. 

We,  therefore,  urge,  this  afternoon,  the  thought 
that  tests  which  are  appropriate,  in  the  realm  of 
mechanical  industries  shall  not  be  applied  in  the 
province  of  ideas.  It  is  in  that  province,  that  insti- 
tutions of  learning  have  their  genesis  and  growth. 
The  secret  of  their  origin  is  buried  in  the  heart  of 
faith  and  hope  and  consecration.  The  precious 
things  for  their  building  are  brought  from  many 
sources  and  from  long  distances.  The  process  is 
slow  and  wearisome.  There  are  self-denials  which 
make  no  s'howy  parade.  Prayer  and  toil  and  precious 
life  are  invested  in  the  structure,  as  the  conception 
takes  form  and  proportion, without  the  sound  of  ham- 
mer, or  ax,  or  tool  of  iron.  Single  years  attract  no 
special  notice.  The  growth  is  like  the  coral  growth 
beneath  the  surface  of  the  world's  clamorous  affairs. 
But  the  noiseless  accretions  fail  not.  From  time  to 
time,  quiet  hands  bring  and  place  there  another  stone, 


142  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  base  broadens  and  the  height  increases,  men 
scarcely  know  how.  Other  structures  rise  with  loud 
acclaim,  to  crumble  slowly  into  ruin,  or  to  fall  with 
sudden,  deafening  crash;  but  these  abide  from  gen- 
eration to  generation. 

Till  within  a  half  century,  how  little  was  there  at 
Harvard  to  arrest  the  attention  of  those  who  judge 
only  from  the  tangible  and  the  startling!  Go  back  of 
the  recent  period  of  ambitious  display.  How  little 
does  the  world  know  of  those  two  centuries  of  un- 
obtrusive benevolence,  when  widows'  mites  and 
mothers'  prayers,  and  laymen's  contributions,  and 
ministerial  faithfulness,  and  teachers'  poorly  paid 
toil,  were  establishing  massive  foundations  for  the 
proudest  and  the  most  enduring  structure  between 
the  two  oceans!  The  echoes  from  Plymouth  Rock 
and  Bunker  Hill  may  become  fainter  and  fainter 
with  successive  centennials,  but  the  voice  of  "  Fair 
Harvard"  will  grow  stronger,  sweeter,  more  persuas- 
ive, till  time  shall  be  no  longer. 

A  single  seed  planted  in  the  soil  of  Massachusetts, 
like  the  Psalmist's  handful  of  corn  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  bringing  forth  after  its  kind,  taketh  posses- 
sion of  every  state  and  territory  of  the  republic. 

Moreover,  while  the  edification  of  our  colleges 
goes  on  without  sound  of  ax,  or  hammer,  or  tool  of 
iron,  and  while  the  standards  for  estimating  their 
value  do  not  primarily  appeal  to  the  senses,  their 
influence  is  all-pervasive  in  whatever  concerns  the 
spread  of  material  civilization.  They  foster,  as  does 
no  other  agency,  the  spirit  of  patient  research,  which 
insures  scientific  discovery  and  mechanical  invention. 
They  quicken  the  thought,  which  gives  impulse  to 
progress  in  agriculture,  manufactures  and  commerce. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  143 

They  inquire  into  the  secrets  of  political  and  social 
problems,  and  quietly  mediate  between  the  antag- 
onisms of  men  who  are  blinded  by  prejudice  and 
selfishness.  But  their  chief  benefaction  to  the  world 
lies  in  the  moulding  of  individual  character,  the  de- 
velopment of  which  is  like  their  own,  unobtrusive, 
yet  excellent  and,  in  its  influence,  wide-spread  and 
abiding. 

Edification  in  mental  and  moral  power  should  be 
the  governing  idea  in  the  life  of  every  human  being. 
The  temple  of  Solomon  is  the  type  of  the  process 
and  the  product.  Forget  not  the  long  years  of  pre- 
paration, before  there  was  aught  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  Jerusalem.  Unknown  workmen  who  never 
appeared  upon  the  streets  of  the  capital,  were  get- 
ting ready  the  stones  in  the  quarries  of  Lebanon, 
and  searching  for  the  noblest  cedars  in  the  distant 
forests  of  the  mountain  of  the  Lord.  The  ships  of 
Tyre,  withdrawn  from  their  secular  mission,  were 
spreading  their  white  wings  up  and  down  the  Medi- 
terranean, in  the  secret  service  of  Jehovah.  Thus, 
like  the  wise  king,  does  the  wise  man  always  labori- 
ously and  patiently  gather  from  afar  the  materials 
which  are  at  length  to  fit  into  their  appropriate  places 
in  the  structure  which  shall  rise  acceptable  unto  God. 
Faith  finds  here  her  sphere  for  perfect  work.  We 
cannot  see  the  uses  of  these  preliminary  mental  and 
moral  disciplines.  Imagination  refuses  to  take  each 
block  and  beam  at  which  we  hew  so  wearily,  and  set 
it  solid  and  fair  in  an  inspiring  picture  of  the  future 
temple  of  the  soul.  But  the  divine  architect  has 
drawn  for  us,  individually,  a  plan  well-pleasing  to 
himself.  He  would  superintend  its  realization.  Un- 
der his  direction,  no  honest  work,  though  it  be  done 


144  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

in  the  loneliest  solitudes  of  life,  which  seem  so  profit- 
less, shall  fail  to  contribute  somewhat,  in  the  full- 
ness of  time,  toward  the  building  of  that  structure, 
which  shall  rise,  without  sound  of  hammer,  or  ax,  or 
tool  of  iron,  and  which  the  God  of  Israel  shall  honor 
as  his  dwelling-place. 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class: — This  is 
an  hour  of  inspection,  an  inspection  of  foundations. 
At  graduation,  the  structure  has  risen  no  higher  than 
the  basement  story.  To  many  there  would  be  more 
satisfaction  in  the  examination  of  a  completed 
edifice.  But  you  have  noticed  that  there  are  not  a 
few,  who  take  special  delight  in  visiting  any  locality 
where  a  cellar  is  newly  dug  and  the  masonry  begins 
to  show  above  the  surface.  Imagination  is  highly 
gratified  by  using  the  suggestions  of  the  ground 
work,  to  divine  the  builder's  purpose,  and  in  vision 
to  anticipate  the  super-structure.  Even  the  little 
that  has  been  done  says  distinctly,  either  cottage,  or 
mansion,  or  temple;  whereupon  appears  some  picture, 
with  its  prophecies  of  homely  happiness,  or  of  lavish 
display,  or  of  inspiring  worship. 

So  now  to  you  is  directed  the  eager  attention  of 
this  sympathetic  audience.  All  are  inquiring  what 
sort  of  foundations  have  these  youth  been  laying  and 
what  are  they  going  to  build.  Within  the  next 
thirty  days,  you  will  hear  the  annual  Jeremiad  over 
the  worthlessness  of  a  college  education,  and  over 
another  host  of  young  men  turned  out  upon  a  world, 
in  which  they  are  utterly  incompetent  to  master  the 
situation. 

There  are  probably  present  a  few  who  are  looking 
on  with  a  mixture  of  contempt  for  what  they  have 
been  doing  the  last  four  years,  and  of  pity  for  you,  as 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  145 

a  fresh  group  of  Innocents  Abroad  during  the  four 
years  to  come. 

But  very  different  is  the  prevailing  sentiment. 

Upon  the  countenances  of  instructors  may  be 
read  approbation,  congratulation  and  expectation. 

The  speaker,  after  the  most  satisfactory  and  de- 
lightful year  of  his  life  as  a  teacher,  utters  only 
words  of  benediction. 

Yonder  is  a  father  who  has  occasionally  seemed  to 
you  rather  old-fashioned  in  some  of  his  notions,  you 
have  been  amazed  that  he  should  not  always  realize 
how  much  larger  the  allowance  ought  to  be  for  the 
collegian  of  to-day  than  it  was  for  the  student  of  the 
last  generation.  Now  and  then,  it  has  been  hard  to 
bear  his  incredulity  about  some  of  your  statements, 
his  independence  concerning  your  opinions  and  his 
utter  forgetfulness  of  what  was  due  to  Senior  dignity. 
Nevertheless,  he  is  this  moment  saying  to  himself, 
though  he  would  not  say  it  to  you,  that  the  invest- 
ment is  a  good  one,  that  the  boy  has  made  a  hopeful 
beginning,  that  the  fellow  is  growing  manly,  and,  in 
,fact,  that  the  son  bids  fair  to  be  a  great  improvement 
on  the  sire. 

There  is  a  mother  pondering  these  things  in  her 
heart.  She  has  always  been  doing  a  thousand 
services  which  you  could  not  have  got  done  for 
money,  and  which  no  other  love  would  have  thought 
of.  You  have  taken  then  as  matters  of  course,  with 
scant  appreciation.  Sometimes  you  have  chafed 
under  her  anxious  watchfulness,  and  vented  your 
vexation  in  words  which  you  would  not  have  uttered 
to  your  father.  But  she  has  forgotten  it  all  this 
afternoon,  and  in  her  thought  the  past  is  sweet  with 


146  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

cradle  song,  the  present  lights  up  with  pride,  and 
the  future  glows  with  anticipation. 

How  big  you  look  to  the  small  boy  in  the  family! 
And  you  will  increase  in  magnitude  till  the  complete 
transfiguration  of  commencement  morning. 

And  not  far  distant  is  the  sister.  Because  she  was 
only  your  sister,  you  have  failed  to  be  gallant,  now 
and  then,  yet,  as  she  looks  this  way,  her  face  ex- 
presses nothing  but  radiant  faith  in  what  you  are  to 
do  and  to  be. 

There,  too,  sits  the  sister  of  somebody  else.  She 
has  never  had  occasion  to  suppose  that  a  petulant 
word  could  fall  from  your  lips,  or  a  discourtesy  mar 
your  demeanor.  She  discovers  no  defect  in  the 
foundation.  God  make  your  hands  clean  and  your 
heart  pure,  that  you  may  be  worthy  of  the  inspira- 
tion, and  build  according  to  the  fairness  of  the 
vision! 

And  while  you  listen  to  that  voice  bidding  you 
build  for  home,  harken,  also,  to  the  united  voice  of 
this  great  congregation,  calling  upon  you  to  build 
for  society,  and  commonwealth,  and  republic. 

And,  if  there  be  one  of  your  number,  who,  till  this 
day,  has  neglected  to  lay  the  corner-stone  of  Chris- 
tian faith,  let  him  now,  in  this  sacred  stillness,  with- 
out sound  of  hammer,  or  ax,  or  tool  of  iron,  bring 
into  place  that  head  of  the  corner,  without  which 
there  can  be  no  building  for  eternity. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1889. 

THE   COLLEGE   AS   A     COMMERCIAL,    CIVILIZING    AND    CHRIS- 
TIANIZING INVESTMENT. 

Cotton  Mather  declared  that  the  best  thought 
which  New  England  had  ever  had,  was  the  Christian 
college.  He  made  the  assertion,  in  view  of  the  ser- 
vices rendered  church  and  state  by  the  institution  in 
question.  But  the  claim  would  be  valid  on  financial 
grounds  also.  No  other  property  of  the  same 
amount  has  been  worth  so  much  in  dollars  and  cents 
to  Cambridge  and  the  neighboring  city  of  Boston  as 
what  is  invested  in  Harvard.  No  other  lines  of  busi- 
ness, with  equal  capital,  have  contributed  to  the 
wealth  of  New  Haven  as  has  the  business  carried  on 
by  the  Yale  corporation.  A  million  dollars  in  fer- 
tilizers would  not  have  given  the  Berkshire  hills  the 
real  estate  value  imparted  by  Williams.  In  other 
parts  of  Massachusetts  you  ride  for  miles  asking 
what  is  this  region  good  for,  till  suddenly  Amherst 
breaks  upon  the  view,  and  you  see  what  has  made 
the  railroad  on  which  you  have  come.  For  its  size, 
the  richest  plant  in  the  city  of  Beloit  is  the  plant  of 
Beloit  college.  When  men  of  strong  faith  knelt  in 
the  snow  and  dedicated  to  God  the  Wabash  college 
that  was  to  be,  it  meant  a  shower  of  gold  for  the 
Crawfordsville  of  the  future.  Financially  it  would 
be  a  less  disastrous  thing  for  Jacksonville  to  have 
her  ten  wealthiest  men  go  into  bankruptcy  than  to 
see  Illinois  College  extinguished.  What  would  prop- 


148  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

erty  be  worth  to-day  in  Grinnell  had  the  cyclone 
blotted  Iowa  College  out  forever?  Solely  on  a  com- 
mercial basis,  dollar  for  dollar,  the  Christian  college 
is  the  best  thing  ever  thought  of,  east  or  west. 

And  what  is  true  for  "town"  is  true  for  "gown." 
A  college  may  fit  a  man  to  live,  but  it  unfits  him  to 
make  a  living.  He  who  would  thrive  in  business 
has  no  business  in  any  college  except  a  business  col- 
lege. Such  is  the  creed  of  the  world,  the  flesh  and 
the  other  party.  Study  the  annals  of  the  pulpit. 
The  ministers  who  draw  the  largest  salaries  in  the 
largest  cities  are  college-bred  men.  No  others  need 
candidate.  This  church  would  never  think  of  wel- 
coming to  its  pastorate  one  who  has  not  taken  a  de- 
gree at  some  reputable  institute  of  liberal  learning. 
In  the  country  towns,  also,  this  question  affects  both 
the  call  and  the  compensation.  There  is  not  in  the 
house  a  college-bred  minister  who  does  not  know 
that  the  training  received  at  his  alma  mater  has  put 
more  money  into  his  pocket  than  he  could  have  got 
in  the  ministry  without  that  training.  There  is  not 
in  the  house  a  minister  deprived  of  such  early  ad- 
vantages who  does  not  feel  keenly  that  the  fact  of 
the  deprivation  has  always  lowered  his  wages. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  college  puts  more 
money  into  the  pockets  of  the  lawyer,  big  or  little. 
Other  things  being  equal,  the  college  puts  more 
money  into  the  pockets  of  the  physician,  great  or 
small.  Such  statements  respecting  the  three  learned 
professions  will  meet  little  opposition.  But  enter 
the  province  of  politics,  which  borders  upon  the 
province  of  law.  The  facts  fall  less  under  common 
observation,  and  the  brilliant  career  of  some  Henry 
Clay  often  blinds  the  multitude  to  the  truth  in  dis- 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  149 

pute.     But  read  any  history  of  England,  written  by 
whig  or  tory,  radical  or  conservative,  and  you  must 
acknowledge  that  the  forces  which  have  swayed  the 
islands  and  the  continents,  have  issued  from  the  uni- 
versities rather  than  from  the  people  or  the  throne. 
If,  however,  this  is  not  conclusive,  because  few  ex- 
cept university  men  have  enjoyed  those  splendid  op- 
portunities, study  the  subject  in  the  light  of  Ameri- 
can democracy.     I  need  not  recite  the  well-known 
facts  concerning  representatives,  and  senators,  and 
judges,  and  governors,  and  presidents.     They  sub- 
stantiate the  assertion  of  Dr.  Crafts,  that  the  colleg- 
ian  has    seven   hundred   and   fifty  times   as  many 
chances   of  political   eminence  as   any   other  man. 
Still,  as  germane  to  the  strictly  financial  view  of  the 
theme,  remember  that  all  the  secretaries  of  the  treas- 
ury for  the  first  twenty-five  years  of  our  national 
life  were  college-bred;  and  that  the  same  may  be 
said  of  two-thirds  of  the  secretaries  of  the  treasury 
from  the  beginning  until  now.     Salmon  P.  Chase, 
who   filled   that   office  so  nobly  during  the  darkest 
days  of  the  rebellion,  was  a  graduate  of  Dartmouth. 
When  you  turn  from  the  high  places  at  Washing- 
ton you  confront  the  same  fact  in  studying  the  great 
enterprises  which  have  multiplied  the  wealth  of  the 
country  a  thousand  fold.     The  prophetic  spirit  and 
the  liberal  hand  of  Chancellor  Livingston,  an  alum- 
nus of  Columbia,  gave  Fulton  the  courage  and  the 
money   to    launch   the   steamboat   on   the  Hudson. 
DeWitt  Clinton,  a  graduate  of  the  same  institution, 
thought  out  for  New  York  her  first  great  system  of 
internal  improvements,  and  gladdened  the  republic 
by   "wedding   the   lakes   and   the   ocean."      Morse 
brought  with  his  diploma  from  Yale  the  quickened 


I5O  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

brain  which  electrified  the  continent  with  the  tele- 
graph. In  a  recent  New  Englander,  Rev.  S.  H.  Lee 
makes  the  happy  hit  that  Charles  Francis  Adams 
not  only  does  not  find  the  ancient  fetich  fatal  to  his 
own  hold  upon  a  Pacific  railroad,  but  slyly  slips  into 
the  best  positions  on  the  line  the  sons  of  that  alma 
mater  so  roundly  berated  the  other  year.  In  a  con- 
versation of  railroad  magnates  not  many  months 
ago,  when  search  was  made  for  the  man  who  com- 
bined the  most  remarkable  capacity  for  details  and 
the  most  wonderful  mastery  of  principles,  the  choice 
fell  upon  Aldace  F.  Walker,  a  graduate  of  Middle- 
bury,  now  honored  as  the  chairman  of  the  inter-state 
railway  association. 

It  is  well-known  in  literary  circles  that  within  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  college  men  have  become  the 
managers  of  almost  all  of  the  leading  publishing 
houses  in  America.  Twenty  years  ago  it  was  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  for  a  collegian  to  obtain  a  position 
upon  a  metropolitan  journal.  I  am  told  that  a 
favorite  decoration  upon  the  walls  of  more  than  one 
editorial  sanctum,  was  the  picture  of  a  college 
sheepskin  with  a  donkey's  head  protruding,  and  the 
degree  of  A.  M.  expanded  into  Asinus  Major.  But 
mark  the  change.  I  learn,  by  personal  inquiry,  that 
in  1872,  on  the  business,  editorial  and  reportorial 
staff  of  a  leading  secular  paper  in  Chicago  only  two 
college  men  were  employed,  but  that  the  number 
has  been  steadily  increasing  till  now  ten  such  men 
are  employed.  My  informant  states  that  this  case 
is  representative,  that  the  same  process  has  been 
going  on  in  the  other  great  dailies,  and  that  it  is  safe 
to  say,  that  the  same  proportion  of  college  men  have 
prominent  places  on  the  six  most  influential  secular 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  I$l 

journals  in  the  metropolis.  What  is  true  in  Chicago 
must  be  true  in  the  other  principal  centers  of  popu- 
lation. The  colleges  are  pushing  toward  the  front 
in  the  editorial  profession. 

Follow  the  inquiry  into  lines  of  business  seemingly 
more  remote  from  the  higher  learning.  Cyrus  Mc- 
Cormick,  Sr.,  would  not  have  given  his  son  a  liberal 
education  had  he  supposed  that  it  would  spoil  that 
son  for  a  partnership  with  himself.  And  is  not 
Cyrus  McCormick,  Jr.,  able  to  handle  as  many  ma- 
chines as  did  his  father?  J.  V.  Farwell,  Sr.,  tooK 
the  same  sort  of  risk  with  his  boy.  J.  V.  Farwell, 
Jr.,  is  proving  himself  abundantly  competent  to  oc- 
cupy the  place  of  his  sire  when  the  latter  shall  be 
called  up  higher. 

Turn  to  the  Yale  catalogue  for  1862  and  you  will 
see  in  the  graduating  class  the  name  of  Franklin 
MacVeagh,  the  great  wholesale  grocer  of  Chicago. 
Though  he  enjoys  writing  articles  which  the  maga- 
zines are  glad  to  publish,  and  though  you  might  sup- 
pose that  his  literary  sense  would  have  destroyed  his 
taste  for  syrups  and  sugars,  and  that  his  college  dis- 
cipline would  have  loosened  his  grip  on  tea  chests 
and  cargoes  of  coffee,  go  down  to  the  corner  of 
Lake  and  Wabash  Avenue  for  enlightenment  on  the 
question. 

Ask  E.  W.  Blatchford,  whether  he  would  have 
made  more  money,  or  less  money,  in  running  oil  mills 
and  shot  towers,  if  he  had  employed  in  some  other 
way  the  four  years  spent  at  Illinois  College.  In 
Denver,  only  the  other  day,  a  friend  informed  me 
that  he  heard  from  N.  S.  Bouton,  one  of  the  fore- 
most iron  and  steel  manufacturers  of  the  interior, 
the  statement  that  college-bred  men  were  taking  the 


152  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

lead  of  all  others  in  the  scientific  manipulation  of 
iron  and  steel.  One  of  my  own  college  professors 
is  just  now  employed  by  a  St.  Louis  syndicate  as  the 
chemist  in  perfecting  a  product  which  bids  fair-  to 
supplant  the  Bessemer. 

Did  time  permit,  these  illustrations  might  be 
gladly  multiplied,  but  this  portion  of  the  discussion 
must  be  brought  to  a  close,  and  I  content  myself 
with  quoting  a  recent  letter  from  Charles  A.  Pills- 
bury,  the  senior  partner  in  the  great  firm  of  Minne- 
sfpolis  millers:  "In  answer  to  your  favor,  I  would 
say  that  I  have  had  several  college  graduates  in  my 
office.  In  every  case  they  have  given  splendid  sat- 
isfaction, as  they  learn  the  details  much  more  rap- 
idly, and  seem  to  take  hold  of  the  principles  of 
business  in  a  more  business-like  manner.  In  every 
instance  that  I  can  think  of,  the  college  graduates 
in  our  employ  have  either  been  promoted  to  the 
heads  of  their  departments,  or  have  gone  into  busi- 
ness for  themselves.  I  think  a  man  with  a  good 
college  education  and  a  few  years  discipline  in  a 
well-regulated  business  office,  is  as  well  fitted  for 
business  life  as  it  is  possible  fora  man  to  be."  Here, 
then,  I  rest  the  contention  in  favor  of  college 
training,  as  a  rich  money  investment  for  every  vo- 
cation in  which  the  brain  is  supreme  over  brawn. 

Next  consider  the  college  as  a  civilizing  invest- 
ment. It  was  shown  in  the  beginning  that  institu- 
tions of  higher  learning  create  and  sustain  com- 
mercial values  in  the  localities  where  they  are 
planted. 

But  this  is  not  their  chief  recommendation  to  those 
who  estimate  riches  aright.  If  nothing  more  could 
be  said  for  them  the  plea  now  made  would  ill-become 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  153 

this  presence.  Colleges,  while  promotive  of  wealth, 
temper  the  merely  mercantile  spirit,  and  prevent  it 
from  becoming  a  curse  within  the  circle  where  their 
influence  is  felt.  They  rebuke  the  greed  of  gain  for 
its  own  sake,  and  teach  the  legitimate  uses  of  money. 
In  this  division  of  the  theme  no  reference  is  made 
to  the  demands  of  religion.  Attention  is  confined 
to  the  province  of  social  science.  For  the  time  we 
are  interested  in  nothing  but  the  most  excellent 
worldly  citizenship.  In  a  strictly  earthly  sense 
there  is  nothing  finer  than  a  certain  charm,  better 
felt  than  described,  about  an  old  college  town.  You 
get  suggestions  of  it  in  the  vicinity  of  some  of  the 
better  institutions  of  the  interior.  But  in  its  per- 
fection it  is  the  product  of  generations  and  centuries. 

Transport  a  man  from  the  prairies  to  the  neighbor- 
hood of  an  institution  which  counts  its  years  by  the 
hundred  and  he  will  at  first  rebel  against  a  certain 
donnishness,  snobbishness  and  priggishness  which 
he  encounters  at  every  turn.  But,  let  him  remain  a 
few  days  and  he  will  discover,  beneath  these  surface 
eruptions,  a  quality  of  life  which  he  would  gladly 
take  back  to  his  western  home,  but  which  he  finds 
that  he  cannot  separate  from  its  surroundings,  and 
that  he  could  not  transport  and  naturalize,  if  separ- 
able. This  quality  can  never  be  either  exported  or 
imported.  It  has  to  be  home-made.  The  agencies 
which  produce  it  are  always  local.  They  issue  from 
college  centers.  They  are  felt  inversely  as  the  square 
of  the  distance.  And,  though  you  never  know  how 
far  they  reach,  they  make  a  vivid  impression  only 
within  narrow  bounds. 

In  a  democracy  there  is  an  irrepressible  conflict 
between  coarse  quantity  and  fine  quality.  The  for- 


154  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

mer  has  immense  advantages  in  the  struggle.  The 
chief  hope  of  the  latter  lies  in  the  multiplication  of 
institutions  of  higher  learning  and  their  general  dis- 
tribution throughout  the  country.  A  few  universities 
will  not  suffice.  A  few  universities,  with  multitudes 
of  colleges  clustered  around  them  at  the  great  cen- 
ters of  population,  will  not  suffice.  The  question  is 
not  now  raised  whether  the  individuals  who  resort 
to  such  institutions  would  or  would  not  receive  the 
education  best  adapted  to  their  personal  wants.  Re- 
member that  we  are  at  present  considering  the  gene- 
ral influence  of  a  college  upon  its  environment.  The 
centralization  of  educational  forces  in  a  republic  can- 
not produce  the  highest  civilization  in  a  republic. 
Local  contact  between  institution  and  people  is  in- 
dispensable. Fifty  years  ago  the  planting  of  western 
colleges  was  chiefly  urged  on  the  ground  that  young 
men  on  the  frontier  could  not  obtain  an  education  at 
the  east,  because  of  distance,  time  and  expense,  but 
many  now  suppose  that  express  trains  have  so 
reduced  distance,  time  and  expense,  that  the  main 
argument  has  lost  its  weight,  and  the  principal  rea- 
son for  the  existence  of  fresh  water  colleges  has  had 
its  day.  But  the  great  argument  for  the  vigorous 
support  of  country  colleges  throughout  the  country 
grows  more  and  more  impressive  with  the  carving 
out  of  every  new  territory  and  the  admission  of 
every  new  state. 

Said  Henry  Ward  Beecher:  "I  plead  for  colleges 
as  the  shortest  way  of  pleading  for  the  people." 
That  colleges  may  most  abundantly  bless  the  people, 
they  must  have  closest  neighborhood  to  the  people. 
Leaven  works  through  contact.  I  would  not  under- 
rate the  mighty  influence  of  primary  and  secondary 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  155 

education.  Let  our  colleges  heartily  co-operate  with 
the  state  superintendent  of  public  instruction  in  his 
untiring  efforts  to  dignify  the  district  schools  and 
the  high  schools  of  the  common-wealth.  The  bet- 
ter they  are  the  better  will  it  be  for  liberal  learning. 
The  cause  is  one.  At  the  same  time  I  venture  the 
assertion  that  there  is  not  a  man  in  the  house  who> 
would  subscribe  more  heartily  than  Dr.  Edwards 
himself  to  this  emphatic  declaration  by  Charles 
Eliot  Norton:  "If  our  civilization  is  to  be  prevented 
from  degenerating  into  a  glittering  barbarism  of  im- 
measurable vulgarity  and  essential  feebleness;  if  our 
material  prosperity  is  to  become  but  the  symbol  and 
source  of  mental  energy  and  moral  excellence,  it  is 
by  the  support,  the  increase  and  the  steady  improve- 
ment of  the  institutions  devoted  to  the  highest  edu- 
cation of  youth." 

Though  these  agencies  are  unobtrusive  in  their 
ordinary  operations,  they  assert  themselves  with 
tremendous  power  in  the  crises  of  history.  Lord 
Cornwallis  declared  that  the  American  revolution 
would  not  have  broken  out  till  half  a  century  later 
but  for  Harvard.  Moreover,  college  men  fought  as 
they  thought  and  thought  as  they  fought  in  the  war 
for  independence.  So  was  it  in  the  rebellion.  Our 
own  war  governor  was  the  first  graduate  of  our 
oldest  college.  One  of  Dr.  Theron  Baldwin's  most 
brilliant  reports  showed  how  the  splendid  achieve- 
ments of  the  gallant  fellows  who  east  and  west  for- 
sook their  classes  for  the  battlefield,  won  the  ad- 
miration of  the  country  and  poured  seven  millions 
of  dollars  into  the  treasuries  of  deserted  institutions 
from  1 86 1  to  1866. 

Listen  to  similar  testimony  from  a  traveler  in  the 


156  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

old  world:  "Robert  College  is  the  finest  building  on 
the  shore  of  the  Hellespont.  Thither  resort  the 
young  men  of  the  first  families  of  the  east.  They 
are  of  nine  different  languages,  and  of  nine  different 
religions.  The  result  is  that  the  administration  of 
the  east  is  coming  largely  into  the  hands  of  the  men 
who  have  been  trained  in  the  college. 

You  would  have  had  no  successful  revolution  in 
Bulgaria  but  for  the  presence  of  these  men.  Indeed, 
an  authority  whom  every  one  would  respect,  has 
said  that,  powerful  as  England  is  in  Turkey,  from 
the  strength  of  her  navy,  and  from  the  successful 
diplomacy  of  Lord  Stratford  de  Redclyff;  powerful 
as  France  is  from  the  ingenuity  of  her  diplomacy 
and  the  traditional  respect  which  the  Sultan's  gov- 
ernment has  for  the  French;  powerful  as  Austria  is, 
from  her  contiguity  and  her  rights  on  the  Danube; 
powerful  as  Russia  is  because  she  has  a  policy  which 
she  will  hold  to  generation  after  generation,  yet  the 
United  States  of  America  has  more  power  in  Turkey 
to-day  than  any  one  of  these  four  great  nations. 
And  the  United  States  owes  that  power  almost 
wholly  to  the  work  of  the  young  men  up  and  down 
through  the  east,  who  have  been  under  the  influence 
of  Robert  College." 

Concerning  teachers  thus  engaged,  hearken  to  the 
quaint  utterances  of  Lord  Bacon:  "Their  love  of 
learning  is  not  natural  curiosity,  nor  inquisitive  ap- 
petite, nor  for  entertainment  and  delight,  nor  for 
ornament  and  reputation;  not  for  victory  of  wit,  not 
for  lucre,  not  as  a  couch  of  rest,  not  as  a  terrace  for 
prospect,  not  as  a  tower  of  pride,  not  as  a  fort  for 
command,  not  as  a  shop  for  profit;  but  to  give  a  true 
account  of  the  gift  of  reason  to  the  benefit  and  use 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  I$>J 

of  man,  and  to  erect  a  rich  storehouse  for  the  glory 
of  the  Creator  and  the  relief  of  man's  estate." 

There  are  in  our  higher  institutions  of  every  grade, 
sixty  thousand  youth.  There  are  within  our  borders 
sixty  millions  of  people.  Sixty  thousand  to  sixty 
million.  One  to  a  thousand.  Gentlemen,  in  the  ad- 
vance of  American  civilization,  the  one  leads  the 
thousand. 

In  the  third  place,  consider  the  college  as  a  Chris- 
tianizing investment.  The  three  r's  of  the  curriculum 
are  reason,  righteousness  and  revelation.  The  high 
places  of  the  curriculum  are  not  only  the  Aventine 
and  the  Areopagus,  but  also  Sinai  and  the  Mount  of 
Beatitudes. 

The  sixty  thousand  youth  are  not  only  the  hope 
of  the  republic,  but  also  the  hope  of  the  kingdom. 
We  often  lament  the  fact  that  the  colleges  are  send- 
ing into  the  ministry  a  smaller  proportion  of  their 
students  than  at  an  earlier  day.  That  fact  is  deplor- 
able. But  it  does  not  warrant  the  conclusion  that 
the  institutions  are  abandoning  the  faith.  Never 
before  have  they  contained  so  large  a  percentage  of 
religious  students.  Never  before  have  the  latter 
maintained  Christian  associations  so  vigorous. 

When  we  are  distressed  over  the  shortage  in  pulpit 
supply,  we  may  find  no  little  comfort  in  the  thought 
that,  if  the  colleges  have  lost  relatively  as  a  min- 
isterial agency,  they  have  gained  relatively  as  a  gen- 
eral Christian  agency.  Formerly  the  ministry  was- 
the  manifest  destiny  of  the  religious  student.  Lat- 
terly he  recognizes  no  such  law  of  moral  compulsion. 
The  conservation  of  forces  prevails  in  the  spiritual 
as  well  as  in  the  natural  world.  What  flowed  in  one 
strong  current  may  diffuse  itself  and  in  lesser  streams 


158  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

reach  the  same  destination.  Subtraction  from  a 
single  profession  means  additions  to  other  vocations. 
Christian  life  in  college  for  quantity  and  quality  is 
superior  to  that  of  other  generations.  The  picked 
youth  of  the  nation  are  congregated  within  these  in- 
stitutions. And  the  selection  is  moral  selection. 

Statistics  show  that  of  the  seven  millions  of  young 
men  in  this  country  only  five  per  cent,  are  church 
members.  But  of  the  sixty  thousand  pupils  in  these 
institutions  from  thirty-five  to  fifty  per  cent,  are 
church  members.  The  percentage  of  church  mem- 
bers in  the  families  of  the  republic  is  twenty.  The 
percentage  of  church  members  in  the  colleges  of  the 
republic  is  more  than  forty.  The  boy  is  far  safer  in 
the  average  college  than  he  is  in  the  average  home. 
He  has  more  religious  associates.  He  is  brought 
under  more  religious  influences  constant  and  special. 
The  chances  are  greater  that  he  will  retain  his  integ- 
rity, if  upright,  and  that  he  will  be  converted,  if  a 
sinner. 

In  addition  to  the  action  of  youth  upon  youth 
should  be  mentioned  the  relation  of  teacher  to  pupil. 
We  live  in  an  age  of  specialties.  College  faculties 
are  not  composed  so  largely  of  ministers,  as  in  earlier 
times.  Many  conclude  that  the  professor's  influence 
has  lost  much  of  its  spirituality.  This  does  not  fol- 
low. The  specialist  makes  a  stronger  instructor  than 
would  the  clergyman  in  most  departments,  and  he  is 
•not,  as  a  rule,  less  earnest  in  his  religious  life.  The 
only  difference  is  that  he  is  not  so  likely  to  magnify 
the  ministerial  profession  before  his  classes.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  theological  seminaries  are  suffering, 
to  some  extent,  from  the  fact  that  the  specialists  are 
crowding  the  ministers  out  of  the  college  faculties. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  159 

On  this  score,  but  not  on  the  score  of  general  relig- 
ious influence,  do  I  lament  the  change. 

Again,  the  curriculum  itself  is  eloquent  for  God 
and  Christ.  This  may  not  be  evident  in  the  earlier 
stages  of  the  linguistic,  scientific  and  mathematical 
discipline.  But  all  such  wearisome  culture  comes  to 
rich  fruitage  in  the  later  years.  Our  farmers  some- 
times assert  that  they  can  literally  see  and  hear  the 
corn  grow,  as  it  thrusts  out  the  ear  and  pushes  up 
the  tassel.  No  less  wonderful  and  delightful  is  it  to 
watch  the  sudden  expansion  of  the  intellect  and  the 
transfiguration  of  the  moral  faculties  as  the  youth 
pursues  the  last  quarter  of  his  course.  The  studies 
of  the  senior  year  are  as  profoundly  religious  as  any 
in  the  technical  school  of  the  prophets.  The  views 
thus  gained  for  the  first  time  concerning  matter  and 
mind  and  spirit  and  Creator  and  Redeemer  are  the 
noblest  preparation  for  Christian  citizenship. 

But  while  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  over  estimate 
the  religious  influence  which  the  colleges  exert  upon 
the  world  by  sending  into  all  vocations  those  whom 
they  have  trained  to  love  truth  and  righteousness, 
there  is  no  other  one  way  in  which  they  manifest 
their  Christianizing  power  so  nobly  as  in  the  prepar- 
ation of  candidates  for  the  theological  seminaries. 
Without  a  liberally  educated  ministry,  the  church 
cannot  maintain  her  supremacy  over  mankind.  Let 
there  be  no  attack  upon  Salvation  Armies.  Cast  no 
contempt  upon  any  genuine  evangelistic  movement. 
Bid  Mr.  Moody  and  others  God-speed  in  their 
efforts  to  prepare  laymen  for  special  work  in  city 
and  country.  Enlarge  the  schools  of  the  prophets, 
so  that  there  shall  be  room  for  the  training  of  those 
who  have  had  limited  opportunities,  but  who  exhibit 


l6o  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

marked  natural  abilities  and  boundless  enthusiasm 
for  the  salvation  of  souls.  Treat  with  the  most 
brotherly  affection  all  who,  however  poorly  qualified, 
try  to  preach  the  gospel  and  to  extend  the  kingdom 
of  our  adorable  Lord. 

Still  the  power  behind  the  throne  of  God  on  earth 
is  and  is  to  be  a  liberally  educated  ministry.  A 
fervid,  undisciplined  evangelism  may  sweep  through 
a  territory  with  astonishing  results,  and  yet  be  pow- 
erless to  hold  the  region  which  it  has  overrun.  No 
religious  conquest  can  be  made  permanent  without  a 
host  of  consecrated  men  thoroughly  drilled  in  col- 
leges and  theological  seminaries.  A  denomination 
which  recognizes  this  as  a  fundamental  fact  and 
governs  its  course  thereby  will  prosper.  A  denom- 
ination which  neglects  to  recruit  the  corps  of  the 
reserve  will  find  its  supremacy  declining  and  vanish- 
ing away.  Ecclesiastical  history  speaks  with  no  un- 
certain voice  upon  this  question. 

Methodism  is  the  most  instructive  example. 
Though  born  at  Oxford,  on  coming  to  America  she 
concealed  her  university  parentage  and  made  her 
first  conquests  in  the  wilderness  by  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit  in  the  hands  of  enthusiastic,  but  illiterate, 
preachers.  For  fifty  years  she  did  not  establish  a 
single  institution  of  higher  learning  on  this  continent. 
But  then  she  discovered  her  mistake.  She  saw  that 
if  she  would  retain  what  she  had  gained  she  must 
bring  her  pulpits  abreast  with  the  best  civilization. 
She  began  the  planting  of  colleges.  That  was  in 
1815.  Since  then  no  other  denomination  has  relatively 
made  so  magnificent  progress  in  founding  and  foster- 
ing such  institutions,  and  thus  extending  and  con- 
solidating her  power. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  l6l 

Congregationalism  laid  the  cornerstone  of  the  first 
college  on  these  shores  nearly  two  centuries  earlier. 
She  has  long  borne  the  palm  as  the  college  building 
polity,  but  is  she  not  in  danger  of  losing  her  crown? 
Is  it  certain  that  some  other  denomination  has  not 
already  taken  it  away?  Our  churches  do  not  care 
for  our  colleges  as  they  did  in  former  days.  Let  the 
colleges  languish  and  the  churches  will  lose  their 
grip  on  the  western  continent. 

On  commercial,  civilizing  and  Christianizing 
grounds,  these  institutions  stand  approved. 

The  college! — The  old  apostrophe  is  justified  : 

"O,  relic  and  type  of  our  ancestors'  worth, 
That  has  long  kept  their  memory  warm; 

First  flower  of  their  wilderness,  star  of  their  night, 
Calm  rising  through  change  and  through  storm." 

"Thomas  Jefferson,  the  author  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  and  the  founder  of  the  University 
of  Virginia!"  Such  was  the  epitaph  written  for  him- 
self by  our  wisest  American  statesman. 

How  consonant  was  the  thought  of  John  Bright, 
the  best  friend  that  America  ever  had  in  England! 
As  in  his  old  age  he  sat  one  day  on  the  lawn  of 
Goldwin  Smith,  at  Oxford,  looking  at  the  towers 
and  spires,  listening  to  their  chimes  and  yielding  to 
the  spell  of  the  score  of  illustrious  colleges  cluster- 
ing there,  he  was  overheard  saying  to  himself :  "  It 
would  be  very  pleasant  to  be  eighteen,  and  to  be 
coming  here." 

Fellow-citizens,  reckoning  the  population  of  this 
state  at  three  millions  and  a  half,  and  taking  the 
statistics  of  the  last  report  of  the  commissioner  of 
education,  you  will  find  that  we  have  only  one  dollar 


1 62  SERMONS  AND     ADDRESSES. 

and  twenty-two  cents  a  head  invested  in  the  grounds, 
buildings,  apparatus  and  endowment  funds  of  all  our 
colleges.  No  wonder  that  so  few  of  our  youth  are 
inspired  with  a  passionate  love  for  liberal  learning. 
No  wonder  that  of  the  few  so  many  seek  their  educa- 
tion in  other  states,  which  make  munificent  provision 
for  the  higher  education.  Is  it  not  high  time  that 
we  so  equip  the  colleges  of  Illinois,  that,  in  their 
beneficent  presence,  our  sons  shall  be  constrained  to 
adopt  the  words  of  John  Bright:  "It  is  very  pleasant 
to  be  eighteen  and  to  be  coming  here." 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class : — Let  these 
parting  words  follow  the  order  of  the  address  just 
delivered.  You  have  been  too  well  trained  in  logic, 
to  find  in  the  first  part  of  the  discussion  any  promise 
that  the  curriculum  now  completed  will  make  you 
rich  men.  But  you  should  cherish  the  conviction, 
that,  no  matter  what  vocation  you  may  follow,  you 
will  get  more  dollars  and  cents  out  of  that  vocation, 
than  if  you  had  entered  it  without  the  training  given 
by  your  alma  mater. 

In  the  choice  of  a  profession,  ask  yourselves  very 
seriously,  in  what  calling  you  can  contribute  most  to 
the  best  civilization. 

The  law  is  a  noble  profession.  In  itself,  and 
through  its  affinity  to  politics,  it  is  to  an  ambitious 
young  man  the  most  attractive  of  all  the  professions. 
It  is,  however,  badly  overcrowded.  One  person  in 
nine  hundred  in  the  United  States  is  a  lawyer. 
David  Dudley  Field  bewails  this  fact.  He  attributes 
to  it  the  multiplication  of  scandals,  divorces,  and 
other  abominations. 

Medicine  is  a  noble  profession.     Still  I  have  re- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS,  163 

cently  traveled  through  Illinois,  Missouri,  Nebraska, 
Colorado,  Iowa,  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota,  and  I 
have  not  found  anywhere  a  scarcity  of  physicians. 
Doctors  are  hunting  for  patients,  not  patients  for 
doctors. 

But  the  whole  region  calls  for  farmers  and  teach- 
ers and  ministers.  The  transformation  of  what  used 
to  be  known  as  the  Great  American  Desert,  through 
irrigation  and  scientific  cultivation,  suggests  what 
may  be  done  by  mixing  brains  with  the  soil,  toward 
diversifying  industries,  and  thus  relieving  markets 
now  glutted  with  over-production  in  lines  of  busi- 
ness once  lucrative.  I  have  spoken  so  often  of  a 
better  farming  and  of  a  more  consecrated  ministry, 
that  I  would  emphasize  at  this  hour  only  the  call  for 
teachers.  Some  one  replies,  "that  is  an  easy  thing 
for  a  college  instructor  to  urge,  but  how  would  it  be 
about  going  out  and  beginning  with  a  country 
school?" 

Young  gentlemen,  only  a  little  while  after  I  was 
standing  as  you  stand  now,  and  feeling  as  you  feel 
to-night,  I  was  teaching  in  Mud  Prairie,  on  $25  a 
month,  and  boarding  around;  and  those  were  the 
most  profitable  weeks  in  my  experience.  Some  of 
the  money  of  which  you  have  had  the  benefit  in  col- 
lege, found  its  way,  the  other  year,  into  the  treasury, 
from  the  pocket  of  one  of  those  Mud  Prairie  direc- 
tors in  1858.  When  I  came  home  one  morning  last 
summer,  after  long  absence,  the  first  thing  to  catch 
my  eye  was  the  funeral  notice  of  a  big-hearted,  little 
old  gentleman,  whose  latch-string  was  always  out  to 
the  district  school  teacher  in  those  days  of  board- 
ing around;  and  I  said  to  myself  that  all  other  busi- 
ness must  stop  till  I  could  go  and  say  a  few  words 


164  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

over  the  coffin  of  Uncle  Tommy  Wright,  of  Mud 
Prairie. 

Whatever  you  turn  to  as  your  life  work,  carry  with 
you  the  purpose  to  dignify  citizenship.  Brother 
Hayden  and  I  were  entertained  during  the  recent 
meeting  of  our  State  Association  in  Quincy,  at  the 
home  of  Mr.  Edward  J.  Parker,  a  prominent  banker. 
At  the  breakfast  table,  on  the  morning  of  decoration 
day,  we  fell  to  talking  of  our  heritage  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty,  and  our  host  expressed  the  desire, 
that,  on  all  memorial  and  festival  occasions  the  stars 
and  stripes  might  float  above  every  school-house  and 
college  in  the  land,  as  an  object  lesson  to  the  peo- 
ple. It  was  mildly  suggested  that  we  had  on  the 
Hill  an  admirable  place  for  the  display  of  the  na- 
tional colors.  "You  shall  have  the  flag,"  responded 
our  host.  The  tall  tower  of  Sturtevant  Hall  is  not 
a  thing  of  beauty.  Architecturally,  it  is  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made.  The  question  has  often 
arisen,  what  was  it  made  for?  The  answer  is,  that 
we  might  fly  the  flag  higher  above  the  sea  level  than 
anybody  else  in  Central  Illinois.  And  so,  on  com- 
mencement morning,  if  you  Seniors,  with  all  the 
other  fellows,  should  gather  there,  and  as  the  new 
colors  are  run  up  for  the  first  time,  crack  your 
throats  a  trifle  with  the  college  cry  for  Illinois  and 
the  republic,  it  would  signify  that  our  American 
colleges  stand  for  what  is  best  in  American  citizen- 
ship. 

Higher  than  the  flag  rises  the  cross. 

Next  Tuesday  evening  the  Christian  Association 
will  observe  its  first  anniversary.  The  Alumni  So- 
ciety,the  Sigma  Pi  Society,  and  the  Phi  Alpha  Society 
hold  their  celebrations  triennially.  The  Christian 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  165 

Association  will  hold  its  celebration  annually.  It  will 
then  bring  to  the  institution  some  gifted  man  from 
abroad,  whose  presence  shall  be  the  pledge  unto 
God,  that,  every  year,  Christian  doctrine  shall  have 
the  first  place  of  honor  at  Illinois  College. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1890. 

"Behold  I  have  given  him  for  a  witness  to  the  people;  a 
leader  and  commander  to  the  people." — Isaiah  Iv:  4. 

MORAL  SUPREMACY:  ITS  SOURCES  AND  MANIFESTATIONS. 

A  rigid  exegesis  would  confine  the  text  to  Christ 
and  his  earthly  mission.  Such  were  the  limits  of 
the  prophet's  vision.  But  it  is  legitimate  to  give  the 
words  a  broader  application.  In  describing  the  mas- 
tership of  Jesus,  the  verse  reveals  the  secret  of  all 
noble,  spiritual  dominion  among  men.  Therefore, 
instead  of  making  it  our  great  object  to  exalt  the 
King  of  Kings  in  this  discourse,  let  us  use  his  illus- 
trious example,  chiefly,  to  irradiate  the  general  sub- 
ject announced  in  the  beginning.  The  theme  should 
be  one  of  absorbing  interest  to  an  audience  like 
this,  assembled  on  such  a  occasion. 

Christ  was  a  witness.  He  came  from  the  bosom 
of  God  that  he  might  make  known  unto  men  the 
very  heart  of  God.  For  thousands  of  years  the  race 
had  been  perplexing  itself  over  that  one  question: 
"  What  is  the  heart  of  God?"  "How  does  he  feel 
towards  his  creatures?"  And  poets  and  priests  and 
philosophers  had  been  giving  all  sorts  of  answers. 
Perplexed  by  the  contradictions,  people  exclaimed: 
"  These  are  only  guesses  after  the  truth.  Nobody 
knows.  Poets  and  priests  and  philosophers  fashion 
their  deities  and  then  make  them  the  mouthpieces 
of  their  own  sentiments.  Their  communings  are 
with  their  own  imaginations,  and  not  with  an  invis- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  l6j 

ible  Creator."  The  prophets  of  one  favored  nation 
had  caught  glimpses  of  Jehovah,  and  had  uttered 
some  limited  revelations  of  his  nature  and  designs. 
But  they  had  failed  to  get  audience  with  mankind. 
Choice  spirits  of  various  lands  and  ages  had  been 
thrilled  by  the  mysterious  movement  of  a  Power  un- 
seen, but  adorable.  Yet  their  doctrine  gained  no 
credence  among  the  populace. 

The  world  clamored  for  a  Witness.  At  length  the 
Witness  came,  and  the  evidence  was  for  the  first 
time  satisfactory.  The  primary  function  of  Christ 
was  testimony.  And  the  primary  function  of  every- 
one who,  in  his  name,  would  bless  mankind,  is  testi- 
mony. Jesus  wins  the  world  by  forcing  the  world  to 
believe  that  he  understands  perfectly  and  reveals  in- 
fallibly, the  heart  of  God.  There  is  no  hesitation, 
no  contradiction  in  his  words.  He  does  not  deal  in 
hypotheses.  He  utters  nothing  but  spiritual  facts, 
from  personal  experience. 

Just  there,  by  contrast,  appears  our  weakness. 
Our  testimony  carries  with  it  an  indefinable  sugges- 
tion of  being  traditional,  or  uncertain,  or  insincere. 
We  have  heard  from  the  Holy  Oracles,  or  from 
saintly  men  and  women,  that  such  and  such  are  the 
dispositions  of  Jehovah,  and  we  so  proclaim  them, 
but  the  utterance  lacks  the  weight  and  impressive- 
ness  essential  to  insure  conviction.  That  weight 
and  impressiveness  are  impossible,  unless  the  soul 
has  been  brought  into  intimate  personal  relations 
to  God.  Such  nearness  saturates,  prints  through  so 
that  the  world  must  read.  Men  may  try  simulation> 
but  it  will  be  in  vain.  Some  resort  to  affectations 
of  familiarity.  Appellations  of  endearment,  suitable 
between  man  and  man,  or  between  man  and  woman, 


1 68  SERMONS  AMD   ADDRESSES. 

are  used  in  addresses  to  the  deity.  But  the  strain 
of  unnaturalness  or  impropriety,  defeats  the  pur- 
pose. A  few  are  attracted,  but  more  are  repelled. 
*  *  *  Others  resort  to  affectations  of  awful  rev- 
erence. Their  cold  and  distant  ritual  is  an  offense 
to  One  who  has  bidden  men  call  him  "Father 
in  Heaven,"  and  it  fails  to  gain  credit  for  sanctity 
among  those  who  are  seeking  access  to  that  Father's 
presence. 

The  secret  lies  deeper.  It  is  independent  of  all 
externals.  The  men  that  captivate  us,  and  bless  us, 
are  those  who  come  to  us  fresh  from  communion 
with  our  Lord.  They  tell  us  with  a  directness  and 
unction  admitting  no  doubt,  what  they  have  seen, 
and  heard,  and  felt,  as  they  have  walked  with 
God,  and  talked  with  God,  and  communed  with  God. 
It  is  this  which  lays  hold  upon  us  in  the  sermons  of 
Bushnell,  or  Taylor,  or  Brooks,  in  the  prayers  of 
Beecher,  or  in  the  personality  of  a  Simpson,  of  a 
Hall,  or  a  Goodell.  Scholarship,  rhetoric  and  ora- 
tory have  their  influence,  but  the  breadth  and  depth 
of  the  knowledge  of  God  are  the  real  measure  of 
power  over  man.  It  is  the  meagreness  and  shallow- 
ness  of  such  knowledge  of  God,  that  soon  make  us 
weary  of  so  many  who  profess  to  be  the  spiritual 
guides  of  the  people.  We  come  to  say  "  that  is 
bookishness,  or  a  trick  of  style,  or  a  cunning  vocal 
modulation."  Such  things  wear  out  in  a  few  months. 
But  let  there  be  some  ever  fresh  suggestion  of  the 
secret  things  which  the  Most  High  is  ever  revealing 
to  one  who  abides  in  his  very  presence,  and  we  never 
tire  of  the  witness. 

You  hear  not  a  little  about  crossing  the  dead  line 
and  losing  grip.  These  calamities  are  supposed  to 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  169 

be  the  result  of  old  age,  or  of  premature  intellectual 
decline.  This  is  sometimes  the  explanation,  but 
still  more  frequently  may  the  reason  be  found 
in  the  shallowness  of  the  man's  religious  experi- 
ences. He  has  never  fathomed  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ.  His  spiritual  wisdom  is  little 
deeper  than  that  of  those  whom  he  addresses.  He 
has  repeated  the  same  testimony  till  it  has  lost  its 
brightness.  It  is  evident  that  he  has  told  all  that  he 
knows  of  the  nature  of  Jehovah,  and  that  he  is  learn- 
ing nothing  more.  People  have  no  further  use 
for  such  a  witness  upon  the  witness  stand;  they  bid 
him  retire,  and  call  another.  The  people  are  not  to 
blame.  These  consequences  may  often  be  avoided 
by  cultivating  reverently,  but  resolutely,  an  intimacy 
with  the  Creator.  That  should  be  progressive.  That 
ought  to  be  the  fundamental  and  constant  study  of 
those  who  seek  moral  supremacy  over  others. 
While  a  man  continues  to  have  some  new  and  pre- 
cious message  from  above,  the  world  will  care  very 
little  whether  the  speaker  numbers  his  years  by  two- 
score,  or  three-score,  or  four-score. 

Such  testimony  from  the  lips  will  have  corrobo- 
rating testimony  from  the  life.  It  may  not  shine 
through  the  countenance,  as  did  the  revelation  of 
Jehovah  through  the  face  of  Moses,  but  a  quiet 
spirit  will  remove  deep  furrows  of  anxiety,  queru- 
lousness  will  die  out  of  the  voice,  and  the  person 
will  be  surrounded  with  an  atmosphere  of  gracious 
serenity.  Original  traits  will  remain.  The  knowl- 
edge of  God  does  not  transform  a  nervous  tempera- 
ment into  a  phlegmatic  temperament,  or  a  melan- 
choly temperament  into  a  sanguine  temperament. 
But  despondency  will  give  way  to  a  prevailing  cheer- 


170  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

fulness  and  a  stimulating  hopefulness.  Moreover, 
when  the  consciousness  of  deity  pervades  the  whole 
being,  it  imparts  richness  and  sweetness  to  all  other 
kinds  of  knowledge.  There  is  a  foolish  notion  that 
the  cultivation  of  the  closest  relations  between 
the  earthly  child  and  the  Heavenly  Father,  will  in 
some  way  narrow  the  faculties  of  the  former,  and 
hinder  his  acquisition  of  the  most  liberal  and  varied 
learning.  But  who  that  understands  the  constitution 
of  the  soul  is  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  the  exercise 
of  the  faculties  upon  any  one  great  theme,  enlarges 
their  capacity  for  action  in  every  department  of  in- 
vestigation? The  closer  man  gets  to  the  heart  of 
God,  the  closer  does  he  get  to  the  heart  of  science 
and  philosophy;  for  these  are  only  the  partial  un- 
folding of  those  truths  which  were  in  the  mind  of 
the  Omniscient  from  the  beginning.  The  spiritual 
is  the  most  brilliant  illuminator  of  the  intellectual. 
There  is  no  fine,  mental  attainment  which  may  not 
thus  be  glorified.  The  more  numerous  the  provinces 
of  investigation  mastered,  the  more  valuable  will  be 
our  testimony  for  God.  Only  let  us  begin  with  that 
which  should  always  be  first,  the  knowledge  of  Him. 
For,  say  what  we  will  to  the  contrary,  there  is  to-day 
no  other  knowledge  which  the  world  so  much  needs, 
no  other  knowledge  which  the  world  is  so  eager  for. 

And  there  is  no  other  man  who  will  command  so 
quick  attention,  and  draw  so  delighted  an  audience 
as  he  who,  out  of  the  depths  of  his  own  experience, 
can  make  some  better  revelation  of  what  God  is  to 
the  soul. 

But,  in  the  next  place,  there  must  also  be  a  knowl- 
edge of  man,  to  whom  this  witness  is  delivered. 
Christ  knew  man  as  well  as  he  knew  God.  He  thus 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  1^1 

served  as  the  easiest  medium  of  communication  be- 
tween the  two.  But  with  him  no  study  was  neces- 
sary. He  embraced  within  himself  the  fulness  of 
each.  A  glance  within  revealed  both  instantly. 
But  with  us  the  learning,  even  in  the  human  direc- 
tion, is  slow  and  laborious.  In  fact,  the  study  of  the 
finite  seems  often  more  perplexing  than  the  study 
of  the  infinite.  For  the  former,  though  insignifi- 
cant, is  a  tangle  of  petty  contradictions,  while  the 
latter,  though  so  great,  is  one  grand  harmony.  The 
training  of  the  schools  is  necessarily  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  books,  rather  than  in  the  knowledge  of  men. 
Though  books  reveal  men  through  the  recorded 
thoughts  of  the  latter,  still  the  information  is  at  second 
hand.  The  picture  in  the  looking  glass  cannot  be  so 
satisfactory  as  the  face.  Usually,  also,  the  man  in  the 
book  is  not  the  common  man  whom  you  expect  to 
influence,  and  with  whom  you  should,  therefore,  be 
the  most  eager  to  get  acquainted.  In  a  general  way, 
human  nature  is  the  same  in  every  station;  but  our 
biographies  are  chiefly  of  those  who  walk  life's  high 
places,  and  their  circumstances  give  them  a  different 
complexion  from  that  worn  by  the  struggling  crowd. 
Biographies  serve  a  better  purpose  as  models,  or 
ideals,  for  ourselves,  than  as  studies  of  character 
among  the  multitude.  Even  in  the  humble  child- 
hood of  Grant,  the  author  is  displaying  real  or  sup- 
posed indications  of  manifest  destiny,  so  that  the 
boy  figures  as  an  uncommon  common  boy.  If  you 
would  learn  to  be  a  leader  of  rail  splitters,  a  day 
spent  with  some  one  who  is  working  up  white  oak 
with  maul  and  wedges,  would  give  you  much  more 
light  upon  the  subject  than  a  day  devoted  to  any  life 
of  the  great  rail  splitter.  So  soon  as  one  become  , 


172  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  hero  of  a  book,  an  atmosphere  of  mirage  gath- 
ers about  his  cradle,  and  it  wraps  him  round  all 
along  till  he  sleeps  in  his  coffin,  and  the  king  of  ter- 
rors does  not  dispel  it,  even  there. 

There  is  the  same  trouble  when  you  turn  to  his- 
tory. The  figures  that  pass  before  you  are  the  larger 
figures,  and  they  too,  walk  in  an  air  of  illusion. 
There  is  a  haze  that  magnifies.  Should  men  of  ordi- 
nary stature  appear,  it  is  in  great,  moving  bodies, 
so  that  no  individual  face  is  distinctly  revealed. 
When  an  author  like  Knight,  abandoning  custom, 
sets  about  writing  the  story  of  the  people,  rather 
than  of  their  rulers,  he  is  only  partially  successful. 
You  do  get  a  better  picture  of  the  life  of  the  multi- 
tude, but  the  colors  run  together,  and  only  the  great 
actors  crowd  to  the  front,  so  as  to  attract  personal 
attention.  Your  interest  centers  in  the  man  who 
wears  the  shoulder-straps  and  who  commands  to  fire, 
and  not  in  the  uniformed  body  that  bites  the  cart- 
ridge and  pulls  the  trigger.  The  general  philosophy 
of  history  may  be  mastered  fairly  well  without  any 
remarkable  knowledge  of  ordinary  human  nature. 
Though  the  nation  is  made  up  of  individuals,  it  is  the 
calculation  of  general  averages  which  shows  the 
trend  of  national  life.  That  can  be  figured  out  in 
the  study,  without  mingling  with  the  people.  But 
he  that  would  himself  shape  the  movements  of  the 
multitude,  must  make  himself  familiar  with  the  inner 
thoughts  of  the  individuals  who  compose  the  mul- 
titude. 

The  case  is  still  worse  with  those  who  try  to  learn 
men  through  polite  literature,  for  that  is  even 
farther  removed  from  the  plane  of  ordinary  expe- 
rience. Polite  literature  manifests  what  is  true  of  a 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  173 

small,  select  circle.  We  ought  to  read  Coleridge 
and  Wordsworth,  and  Emerson,  and  Browning,  but 
surely  not  with  the  notion  that  we  are  thus  to  learn 
human  nature  as  it  is  found  on  farm,  in  .shop,  in 
store,  up  and  down  the  highways  and  the  byways  of 
the  world.  The  mission  of  such  authors  is  blessed. 
They  come  to  us  in  hours  of  seclusion  with  messages 
of  inspiration,  when  we  have  withdrawn  awhile  from 
the  crowd,  that  in  the  ideal  realm  we  may  refresh 
ourselves  for  the  better  service  of  mankind. 

I  am  not  a  believer  in  that  so-called  realism  in  lit- 
erature which  is  the  rage  of  the  period.  It  is  of  the 
earth  earthy.  Still  it  makes  one  very  plausible  plea 
for  favor.  It  claims  to  withdraw  attention  from  those 
lofty  themes  and  exalted  personages  that  have  hith- 
erto been  far  too  prominent  in  the  reading  and  the 
thinking  of  the  race,  to  popularize  every-day  scenes 
and  to  dignify  the  ordinary  men  and  women  who 
are  the  actors  therein.  If  the  movement  could  be 
rescued  from  dirty  manipulation  by  the  French 
school  of  fiction,  it  might  be  made  a  blessing.  A 
literature  of  common  life,  which  should  be  kept 
clean  and  sweet,  would  prove  exceedingly  whole- 
some. It  would  be  especially  beneficial  in  bringing 
the  upper  classes  of  society  to  a  better  understanding 
of  the  lower.  The  study  of  such  books  would  be  a 
genuine  study  of  man.  It  would  help  to  quiet  an- 
tagonism and  to  foster  good  will. 

The  drama  is  better  fitted  than  any  other  depart- 
ment of  literature  to  give  this  knowledge  of  human 
nature  on  which  I  am  insisting.  There  is  no  other 
secular  book  so  good  as  Shakespeare,  for  study  by 
one  who  would  become  a  leader  of  the  people.  No- 
where else  do  we  find  so  complete  and  masterly 


174  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

a  treatment  of  the  motives  which  sway  all  classes 
and  conditions  of  men.  Hamlet  and  the  grave- 
digger  serve  the  purpose  equally  well.  The  mind  of 
the  dramatist  swings  with  perfect  ease  and  impar- 
tiality from  the  soliloquy  of  the  prince  to  the  talk  of 
the  clown.  The  author  seems  to  have  no  more  fond- 
ness for  the  former's  lofty  speculation  on  life  and 
death,  than  for  the  latter's  homely  philosophy,  as  he 
handles  the  skull  of  poor  Yorick  just  dug  out  of  the 
clay.  You  are  made  no  better  acquainted  with 
Macbeth,  and  Lear,  and  Othello,  and  Richard  Third, 
and  Julius  Caesar,  than  with  Quince,  and  Snug,  and 
Bottom,  and  Shallow,  and  Dogberry.  Still,  notwith- 
standing this  fidelity  to  nature  without  regard  to 
rank  or  vocation,  the  setting  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury is  not  the  setting  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and 
the  whole  procession  of  figures  moving  through  the 
plays  of  Shakespeare  will  not  give  you  so  valuable  an 
insight  into  life  and  character  as  you  may  get  by  the 
personal  study  of  the  men  and  women  you  meet 
every  day. 

Yet  mark  you  this  :  the  study  must  not  be  cyni- 
cal, but  sympathetic,  if  you  would  have  it  tributary 
to  your  moral  supremacy.  It  is  tender  affection 
blending  with  clearest  vision  which  is  drawing  all 
toward  Christ  as  Master  and  Lord.  On  our  part, 
worse  than  ignorance  respecting  human  nature 
would  be  contempt  for  it  engendered  by  familiarity 
with  its  weakness  and  wickedness.  Said  one  to  me 
who  had  had  wide  experience  in  dealing  with  all 
classes  of  people  :  "  You  ministers  move  about  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  the  meanness,  the  malignity, 
and  the  rottenness  of  .  society.  You  paint  pretty 
pictures  of  generosity,  fraternity  and  righteousness. 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  175 

They  are  rather  attractive  as  fancy  sketches,  but 
what  are  they  worth?  They  may  please  a  few 
deluded  optimists.  The  multitude,  however,  only 
laughs  at  your  innocent  simplicity,  and  goes  its  way, 
leaving  you  to  your  unsophisticated  dreams  of 
Utopia.  If  you  would  quit  this  realm  of  imagination 
where  the  women  are  so  angelic,  and  the  men  are  so 
saintly,  and  find  out  what  miserable  sinners  and 
hardened  reprobates  make  up  the  body  of  society, 
your  sweet  charity  would  turn  to  gall,  and  then  your 
tongues  might  do  something  toward  lashing  the 
world  into  decency." 

Now  there  is  too  much  truth  in  the  charge  that 
ministers,  shut  up  in  their  studies,  and  much  given 
to  contemplating  ideals  of  moral  excellence,  endow 
carnal  creatures  with  a  spirituality  wanting  in  fact. 
Such  ignorance  is  deplorable.  It  ought  to  be  re- 
moved. But  God  forbid  that  in  the  process  of  dis- 
enchantment, love  should  turn  to  scorn,  and  speech 
become  a  whip  of  scorpions.  The  last  state  would  be 
worse  than  the  first.  Christ  knew  all  about  the 
woman  that  was  a  sinner  and  the  man  that  was  a 
thief.  His  nature  recoiled  as  can  no  other  from  lust 
and  crime.  But  what  were  His  feelings  and  His  ac- 
cents, in  the  temple,  and  on  the  cross,  when  He  said 
to  the  woman  :  "  Go  and  sin  no  more  ; "  and  to  the 
man:  "This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise!" 
We  are  all  both  far  worse  and  far  better  than  we 
seem.  This  should  make  us  very  strong  and  very 
gracious  in  our  ministry.  Overt  acts  may  fall  within 
the  pale  of  strict  propriety,  but  should  we  unmask 
the  thoughts  that  come  close  and  look  eagerly  upon 
the  forbidden,  when  we  are  nevertheless  restrained 
from  transgression  by  some  providence  outside  our- 


176  SERMONS    AND  ADDRESSES. 

selves,  all  the  world  would  point  the  finger  and  cry 
shame !  Such  facts  ought  to  make  us  most 
clement  in  dealing  with  those  who  have  had  no 
guardian  presence  to  restrain  them  in  temptation, 
and  have  brought  upon  themselves  open  disgrace. 
Two  walk  together  up  to  a  certain  line,  neither  any 
better  or  any  worse  than  the  other.  But  that  line  is 
the  brink  of  an  abyss.  One,  unrestrained,  goes  over 
and  is  lost.  The  other,  held  back  by  an  unseen 
hand,  turns  aside,  and  society  never  suspects  what  he 
was  saved  from..  Has  he  any  cause  to  glory  in  his 
superior  virtue?  Had  that  unseen  hand  been  laid 
upon  the  shoulder  of  his  companion,  that  companion 
would  now  be  walking  in  the  sweet  upper  light,  and 
he  himself  would  be  an  outcast  .in  the  nether  gloom. 
What  spirit  should  this  breed  in  us  all?  Not 
phariseeism.  It  ought  to  excite  a  yearning  to  rescue 
those  who  just  now  stood  on  the  same  social  plane 
and  the  same  moral  plane  as  ourselves.  Let  there  be 
no  pity.  Pity  hurts,  it  does  not  heal.  But  sympathy 
never  hurts,  it  often  cures.  You  have  read  of  the 
man  who  went  to  a  convict,  and  said  to  him:  "  My 
dear  fellow,  I  know  all  about  your  case.  And  but  for 
the  special  grace  of  God  I  should  be  just  where  you 
are  to-day."  The  convict  looked  up  grimly  and 
said  fiercely:  "  You  don't  mean  it,  you  hypocrite." 
"I  do  mean  precisely  that,"  replied  the  other.  And 
the  convict  glared  upon  the  man  awhile.  And  the 
man  met  the  look  with  a  gaze  that  was  honest  and 
full  of  sympathy.  And  the  tears  began  to  flow  from 
the  eyes  of  the  man.  And  the  tears  began  to  flow 
from  the  eyes  of  the  convict.  And  hand  sought 
hand.  And  the  convict  said,  "  Though  prison  walls 
must  separate  us,  I  am  saved.  I  can  be,  and  I  will 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  IJJ 

be,  once  more  a  man,  because  your  heart  has  conquered 
mine''  To  be  a  savior,  it  is  not  necessary  that  you 
should  commit  the  same  crime  as  he  whom  you 
seek  to  rescue,  but  you  must  show  that  you  have 
felt  the  same  fierce  temptation,  and  have  barely  es- 
caped, and  also  that  any  sense  of  superiority  is  for- 
gotten, so  that  you  suffer  with  the  criminal,  almost 
as  if  you  were  yourself  a  reprobate.  That  brings  you 
near,  and  gives  you  grasp,  and  clasp,  and  uplifting 
and  transforming  power.  All  these  hair-breadth 
escapes  from  moral  disaster,  which  you  and  I  have 
hidden  among  the  secrets  that  no  other  mortal 
knows  about,  are  our  best  equipment  for  rescuing 
the  perishing.  We  need  not  make  specific  con- 
fessions, but  we  must  suggest  enough,  so  that  he 
whom  we  approach  shall,  with  a  start  of  surprise, 
say,  "  Why,  this  man  whom  the  world  calls  immac- 
ulate, has  just  missed  being  what  I  am;  he  feels  pre- 
cisely as  I  have  felt;  he  has  come  along  the  same 
forbidden  path,  only  he  stopped  one  step  short 
of  the  chasm  into  which  I  fell;  he  knows  all  about  it; 
he  suffers  with  me;  he  cannot  bear  to  have  me  lost; 
I  will  not  be  lost."  This  is  the  secret  of  moral 
leadership.  These  are  extreme  cases,  but  the  prin- 
ciple covers  the  whole  domain  of  trial,  trouble,  dis- 
appointment, defeat,  calamity  and  anguish.  The 
leader  there  must  have  his  baptism  of  grief  and  of 
tears.  It  is  the  suffering  deeply  cut  into  the  heroic 
face  that  makes  you  always  turn  for  one  more  look 
at  Lincoln's  picture  in  history  and  Dante's  picture 
in  poetry.  While  in  tragedy  the  central  figure  is 
that  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  whose  lifting  up  on 
Gethsemane  is  drawing  the  world  that  way. 

But  we  are  all  likewise  far  better  than  we  seem, 


178  SERMONS  AND  ' ADDRESSES. 

and  that  fact  opens  other  possibilities  of  leadership. 
The  most  plodding  mortal  is  not  forever  walking  in 
the  dust  and  stumbling  among  the  clods.  He,  now 
and  then,  gets  well  up  the  mount  of  transfiguration, 
and  catches  a  glimpse  of  the  shining  ones,  and,  like 
Peter,  and  James  and  John,  is  bewildered  by  celestial 
voices.  Such  rare  and  fleeting  experiences  ought  to 
be  to  us  both  benediction  and  inspiration.  They 
deepen  the  conviction,  that  God  is  our  heavenly 
Father;  that  the  phrase  is  something  more  than  a  be- 
witching metaphor;  that  we  are  indeed  his  beloved 
children,  having  even  here  in  the  flesh  some  likeness 
to  Him.  And  there  spring  up  in  the  heart  beliefs, 
hopes  and  aspirations  inexpressibly  precious.  God 
give  us  a  quicker  insight,  and  a  more  joyous  sym- 
pathy with  these  radiant  characteristics  of  the  peo- 
ple that  we  mingle  with  day  after  day.  Trooping 
from  morning-land  comes  a  host  of  young  men  and 
maidens,  eager  to  follow  one  who  will  interpret 
aright  these  vanishing  visions  and  make  them  an 
abiding  possession,  temporal  no  less  than  eternal. 

The  world  resists  arbitrary  power  more  and  more. 
The  independence  of  the  individual  was  never  before 
so  stoutly  asserted.  The  weak  are  learning  to  com- 
bine more  successfully  against  tyrannical  masters. 
Still  there  has  never  been  a  time  when  moral 
supremacy  was  so  welcome.  Society  is  eagerly 
looking  about  to  find  those  who  have  a  profound 
knowledge  of  God  and  of  man,  a  rich  spiritual 
experience,  a  cordial  sympathy  with  others,  in  their 
struggle  with  the  carnal,  and  in  their  aspirations  to- 
ward holiness.  Society  says  to  such,  be  ye  not  only 
leaders,  but  commanders  of  the  people.  Those  who 
would  die  before  they  would  submit  to  a  despot,  be- 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  179 

come  the  enthusiastic  followers  of  one  who  rises 
above  them  in  divine  and  human  wisdom,  in  brother- 
ly affection  for  the  fallen,  and  in  winged  hope  for 
those  whose  hearts  are  fixed  upon  the  crown  of  life. 
They  are  not  quite  satisfied  with  words  of  counsel 
from  his  lips.  They  bid  him  speak  with  authority. 
Down,  deep  in  their  souls,  men  do  'love  such  a 
MASTER. 

In  lesser  and  in  larger  circles,  there  are  thrones 
waiting  for  kings  innumerable.  God  bids  us  all  thus 
to  be  witnesses,  and  leaders,  and  commanders  of  the 
people. 

Young  Gentlemen  of  the  Graduating  Class: — Espec- 
ially urgent  is  this  divine  call  to  those  who  have 
just  completed  the  college  curriculum.  The  studies 
of  the  Senior  year  encourage  moral  thoughtfulness 
and  moral  earnestness.  Man,  as  an  individual,  as  a 
member  of  society,  and  as  a  son  of  God,  engrosses 
the  attention.  I  rejoice  that,  in  addition  to  the 
ordinary  influence  of  the  investigations  which  you 
have  been  pursuing,  you,  in  common  with  your 
fellow  students,  have  within  the  past  few  months  ex- 
perienced a  gracious  quickening  from  the  Holy 
Spirit.  With  some,  religious  life  has  been  revived; 
with  others,  it  has  just  begun.  Do  you  not  feel  at 
this  hour  a  new  sense  of  obligation,  to  go  out  into  the 
world  as  "witnesses  to  the  people?"  Cultivate,  then, 
first  of  all  a  profound  knowledge  of  God  as  he  is  re- 
vealed in  Christ,  that  your  testimony  may  have  con- 
vincing power. 

In  the  second  place,  enter  now  upon  a  more  com- 
prehensive study  of  man.  The  college  world  is  a 
very  delightful  world,  still  it  differs  greatly  from  the 
wide,  wide  world  which  you  are  to  enter.  Never 


l8o  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

abandon  the  scholarly  ideal.  Join  not  the  ranks  of 
those  who  would  betray  liberal  learning  into  the 
hands  of  the  Philistines.  Do  not,  on  the  other  side, 
withdraw  into  a  select  literary  circle,  and  dwell  there 
in  donnish  exclusiveness.  Seek  to  be  "leaders  of  the 
people."  Within  a  twelve-month  you  will  find  that 
they  are  in  no  hurry  to  follow  the  young  college 
graduate.  The  winning  ways  which  he  has  learned 
to  practice  with  the  college  boy,  or  the  college  girl, 
prove  a  misfit  when  tried  upon  the  multitude. 

To  the  knowledge  of  the  schools  and  books, 
and  of  those  who  live  in  the  schools  and  books,  pre- 
cious as  it  is,  add  the  knowledge  of  those  who  look 
with  indifference,  or  suspicion,  or  hostility  upon 
attainments  which  are,  in  your  eyes,  of  supreme  im- 
portance. Cultivate  and  manifest  an  interest  in  men 
as  men,  without  regard  to  station  or  vocation. 
Study  them,  through  close  contact;  amid  homes  and 
callings  of  every  description.  Convince  them  that 
this  is  not  from  idle  curiosity,  not  from  selfish  mo- 
tives, but  from  a  genuine  interest  in  their  welfare. 
After  such  qualification  for  leadership,  there  will 
arise  a  temptation  to  expect  too  much  in  the  way  of 
personal  appreciation  from  those  whom  you  seek 
to  serve.  "  Do  good,  hoping  for  nothing  again," 
said  the  Great  Leader.  It  costs  grievous  pangs  to 
learn  that  secret.  When  you  find  that  men  are  fol- 
lowing mainly  for  what  they  can  gain  by  so  doing, 
and  that  they  will  desert  when  there  is  no  persona'l 
profit  in  loyalty,  it  will  hurt  sorely,  and  there  is  dan- 
ger that  you  may  become  bitter  and  misanthrophic. 
Resist  that  bravely,  and,  in  the  course  of  years,  to 
mitigate  your  disappointment,  will  come  blessed  ex- 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  l8l 

pressions  of  confidence  and  affection  from  sources 
wholly  unexpected. 

The  leader  who  keeps  his  faith  unshaken,  his  hope 
buoyant  and  his  love  ardent,  through  this  long  and 
trying  ordeal,  must  finally  become  a  "commander  of 
the  people." 

I  do  not  hold  up  before  you  to-night  the  glitter- 
ing prizes  of  private  and  public  life.  I  do  not 
know  whether  they  would  be  obtainable  by  you 
all.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  would  be  desirable 
for  you  all.  But  moral  supremacv  is  possible  for 
every  one.  Moral  supremacy  would  be  an  unspeak- 
able blessing  to  every  one.  Therefore,  unto  that 
aspire.  Pursue  the  ideal  with  the  studious  fidelity 
which  has  been  your  distinguishing  peculiarity  as  a 
class,  throughout  the  college  course,  and,  whatever 
your  vocation  may  be,  wherever  your  lot  may  be 
cast,  you  will,  in  this  highest  sense,  be  "  command- 
ers of  the  people." 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 
BEFORE  THE  CLASS  OF  1892.* 

"  And  it  shall  come  to  pass  afterward,  that  I  will  pour  out 
my  spirit  upon  all  flesh;  and  your  sons  and  daughters  shall 
prophesy,  your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams,  your  young  men 
shall  see  visions." — Joel  ii :  28. 

THE    INFLUENCE    OF    THE    SPIRIT    OF    GOD    UPON    THE 
SOUL    OF    MAN  :    TRANSFORMATION  ! 

This  is  only  ope  of  several  agencies  thus  employed, 
but  it  differs  radically  from  all  the  others,  in  the 
nature  and  results  of  its  operation. 

The  life  of  the  child  is  chiefly  a  life  in  the  senses. 
Through  touch,  he  derives  his  primary  knowledge  of 
the  external  world.  At  first,  he  literally  apprehends, 
with  his  hand.  Presently,  smell,  taste,  vision  and 
hearing  begin  to  thrill  him,  with  their  peculiar  de- 
lights. 

It  is  a  charming  sight  to  watch  him  indulge  in  the 
various  enjoyments  of  the  wonderland  which  he 
explores.  There  is  no  more  disposition  to  criticise 
the  play  of  the  child  than  that  of  the  calf,  the  colt 
or  the  kitten. 

But,  before  long,  a  contrast  appears.  It  becomes 
manifest  that  this  life  in  the  senses  is  the  only  one 


*  Serious  illness  during  the  spring  of  1891  prevented  Presi- 
dent Tanner  from  delivering  the  Baccalaureate  Address,  his 
place  being  supplied  by  Rev.  Wm.  H.  Milburn,  D.  D.  The 
sermon  already  prepared  for  that  occasion,  he  planned  to 
preach  before  the  class  of  1892;  but  another,  the  acting  president, 
Dr.  Harvey  W.  Milligan,  read  it  for  him  four  months  after  the 
writer  was  gone. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  183 

of  which  the  animal  is  capable,  and  that,  in  a  state 
of  nature,  he  may  be  left  free  to  follow  his  appetite, 
without  any  change  for  the  better  or  the  worse.  Not 
so,  however,  is  it  with  the  child.  Keep  constantly 
before  the  animal  an  unlimited  supply  of  all  things 
eatable,  and  he  will  never  damage  himself.  Instinct 
shields  him  from  harm. 

Yet,  when  you  expose  the  child  thus,  he  brings 
upon  himself  all  kinds  of  sickness.  He  must  be  re- 
strained by  others,  or  taught  by  the  pains  of  ex- 
cess, to  restrain  himself.  Let  him  continue  living 
to  eat  and  drink,  instead  of  eating  and  drinking  to 
live,  and  finally  the  sense  of  taste  will  transform  him 
into  a  gross  and  carnal  creature. 

The  senses  of  sight  and  hearing  exercise  little 
practical  influence  over  brutes.  You  notice  some 
sensitiveness  to  both  coloV  and  sound,  but,  only  in 
exceptional  cases,  can  either  beauty  or  harmony,  be 
said  to  make,  or  mar,  the  happiness  of  beasts  and 
birds.  Sight  and  hearing  are,  however,  mighty  fac- 
tors, in  the  weal  or  woe  of  the  human  race. 

They  have  an  office  essentially  nobler  than  that  of 
taste.  They  cannot  so  easily  be  prostituted  to  base- 
ness. They  call  attention  away  from  the  lower  to 
the  higher  functions  of  the  physical  system. 

They  develop  the  aesthetic  nature,  and  serve  as  a 
check  upon  appetite.  Let  them  gain  the  ascen- 
dency, and  you  will  find  that  they  have  to  some  ex- 
tent an  expulsive  power  over  the  lower  propensities. 

The  mere  sculptor,  or  painter,  or  musician,  ranks 
in  the  scale  of  being,  far  above  the  one  who  takes  as 
his  motto:  "let  me  eat  and  drink  to-day,  for  to-mor- 
row I  die."  Sight  and  hearing  may  thus  so  far  get 
the  mastery  of  appetite  as  to  transform  a  groveling 


184  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

disposition,  into  one  which  delights  in  pictures  and 
statuary  and  song.  Still,  you  have  not  yet  crossed 
the  distinct  boundary,  which  separates  the  realm  of 
aesthetics  from  the  realm  of  ethics.  Neither  sep- 
arately, nor  combined,  can  the  senses  effect  a  blessed 
moral  transformation. 

Now,  will  sin  do  it?  This  is  a  question  which 
Hawthorne  discusses,  in  that  fascinating  and  power- 
ful piece  of  fiction:  The  Marble  Faun.  He  presents 
you,  at  the  outset,  with  the  picture  of  Donatello,  a 
being  with  all  the  senses  in  perfect  accord,  a  being 
that  furnishes  the  missing  link  in  the  development 
theory,  protected,  by  inherited  animal  instinct,  from 
the  physical  miseries  which  ordinary  humanity  in- 
curs through  over-indulgence,  and  still  of  sufficient 
intellectual  endowments,,  to  get  a  moderate  enjoy- 
ment from  the  reasoning  faculties,  but  with  the 
moral  sense  wholly  dormant. 

A  love  which  is  partly  animal,  partly  human,  takes 
possession  of  this  strange  creature.  Instigated  some- 
what by  his  own  fondness,  and  somewhat  by  the 
look  and  gesture  of  his  beloved,  he,  in  a  moment  of 
frenzy,  hurls  her  persecutor  down  a  precipice  to  de- 
struction. 

What  had  just  before  had  no  more  moral  quality  to 
him,  than  to  an  eagle  has  the  death  of  a  lamb,  for  the 
feeding  of  her  young,  or  the  killing  of  any  animal 
has  to  a  mastiff,  in  obedience  to  the  bidding  of  his 
master,  suddenly  arouses  conscience,  as  it  is  struck 
by  the  fangs  of  remorse.  The  soul  is  torn  by  a 
mighty  convulsion.  What  had  seemed  only  the  nat- 
ural and  legitimate  death  of  a  hated  object,  all  at 
once  shocks  the  eye  as  MURDER,  written  every- 
where in  characters  of  blood.  That  mangled  body 


BACCALAUREATE   ADDRESS.  185 

at  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  will  not  stay  buried  by  day. 
It  cries  out  in  the  visions  of  the  night.  Donatello 
may  repair  to  his  former  haunts  in  field  and  forest, 
but  the  fountains  turn  crimson,  and  Undine  hides 
from  sight.  Timid  animals  steal  out  from  their  re- 
treats to  frisk  about  him  as  of  old,  but,  as  he  beck- 
ons them  closer,  they  detect  a  clot  of  gore  upon  his 
hand,  and  vanish.  The  birds  began  to  respond  to 
his  call,  but  suddenly  the  music  dies  out  of  their 
throats,  and  they  whirl  and  whirr  back  into  the 
thickets.  All  the  blessed  harmonies  of  nature  have 
become  only  a  succession  of  cruel  discords. 

Human  society  affords  no  relief.  Upon  every 
man's  face,  there  is  either  the  cunning  smile  of  the 
betrayer,  or  the  scowl  of  the  avenger. 

From  the  very  woman  for  whose  sake  the  deed  of 
darkness  was  done,  the  culprit  feels  a  shuddering 
recoil,  till,  after  distressing  months  of  compassionate 
ministry  on  her  part,  a  pitiful  reconciliation  is  ef- 
fected. 

But  this  brings  no  happiness  to  either.  In  rustic 
scene  and  city  carnival,  the  two  do  now  and  then  try 
to  forget  their  common  woe,  still  a  ghost  tracks  them 
in  their  disguise,  and  a  death's  head  grins  at  them  in 
the  midst  of  their  wildest  pranks. 

Instead  of  the  animal  frolicsomeness  and  the  hu- 
man giddiness  of  the  earlier  period,  you  behold  a 
physical  tremor  and  a  self-tormenting  spirit  in  Don- 
atello. 

You  cherish  a  certain  respect  for  the  moral 
thoughtfulness  and  the  merciless  self-accusations  of 
the  wretched  creature.  You  say  justly,  that  there  is 
in  him  more  that  is  noble,  than  there  was  before  he 
became  involved  in  the  tragedy.  Out  of  a  happy 


1 86  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

animal,  has  come  an  unhappy  man.  Still,  though 
you  sympathize  profoundly  with  the  latter,  and  de- 
clare that  he  stands  higher  than  the  former  in  the 
scale  of  being,  you  would  rather  be  the  animal  than 
the  man,  if  no  further  advance  were  possible. 

Sin  has  wrought  a  transformation,  but  it  were  bet- 
ter not  wrought  if  the  process  must  stop  there.  Sin 
working  alone  through  remorse  cannot  bring  peace. 
Sin  in  itself  is  not  a  benefactor. 

I  do  not  know  precisely  what  doctrine  Hawthorne 
meant  to  teach  by  the  fiction.  I  presume  that  he  in- 
tended to  leave  the  subject  enveloped  in  the  haze  of 
speculation,  just  as  he  refused  to  testify,  whether 
the  ears  of  Donatello  were  furry,  or  not  furry. 
Neither  naturalist  nor  spiritualist  can  make  much  of 
Hawthorne  as  a  witness,  in  a  case  tried  before  a  jury 
empaneled  in  the  ordinary  fashion.  His  subtle  spirit 
delights  in  tantalizing  all  in  court,  by  his  bewildering 
hints  and  evasions. 

But  so  much  is  clear  in  the  light  of  the  story.  Sin 
may,  through  remorse,  effect  a  sort  of  moral  trans- 
formation, but  not  a  happy  moral  transformation.  It 
may  arouse  a  giddy  soul,  so  that  that  soul  shall  lose 
all  relish  for  the  sensual  and  sensuous  gratifications 
which  have  hitherto  been  its  delight.  But  sin  has 
no  satisfactory  substitute  to  offer.  It  reveals  the 
shallowness  and  the  wickedness  of  the  past  life.  It 
may  awaken. better  longings,  still  it  makes  no  prom- 
ise of  their  realization.  The  victim  is  driven  up 
and  down  the  world  by  an  accusing  spirit,  or,  in  an 
extreme  case  like  that  of  Donatello,  he  may  in  de- 
spair confess  his  crime,  and,  tormented  by  an  accus- 
ing conscience,  end  his  days  in  a  malefactor's  cell. 
Sin  is  not,  as  some  would  have  us  believe,  an  angel 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  187 

in  disguise.  Sin  has  no  mission  of  mercy  and  benef- 
icence. When  we  fall  into  guilt,  we  fall  downward, 
not  upward.  The  logical  issue  of  sin  is  DEATH. 

Now  advance  a  step,  and  take  from  the  realm  of 
fiction  another  short  study  of  the  doctrine  of  trans- 
formation. Shift  the  scene  from  Italy  to  Egypt. 

In  the  "  Bride  of  the  Nile,"  George  Ebers  very 
happily  portrays  the  transforming  power  of  woman 
over  man.  Orion  is  a  youth  of  noble  lineage,  rich, 
handsome,  gifted,  the  prince  of  good  fellows,  gener- 
ously disposed  and  popular,  but  of  lax  morality  in 
the  gratification  of  every  desire.  He  has  been 
trained  to  think  that  the  rights  of  others  should  be 
subordinated  to  his  personal  happiness.  In  his  pur- 
suit of  pleasure,  the  sufferings  of  those  around  him, 
when  caused  by  his  conduct,  excite  no  distressing 
upbraidings  of  conscience.  He  never  raises  the 
question,  but  that  man  was  created  to  be  the  ser- 
vant of  his  ambition,  woman  the  victim  of  his  fugitive 
fancy. 

He  meets  Paula,  his  equal  in  rank  and  accomplish- 
ments, but  trained  in  the  school  of  adversity,  and,  in 
addition  to  a  moral  nature  highly  sensitive,  taught  by 
experience  to  respect  the  rights  of  the  lowly,  as  well 
as  of  those  in  exalted  station. 

It  is  a  case  of  mutual  fascination  and  antipathy. 
Each  is  irresistibly  drawn  toward  the  other.  Still 
both  feel  a  strange  repulsion.  Orion  is  compelled  to 
recognize  in  Paula  a  moral  ideal  which  he  has  not 
seen  before. 

He  is,  one  moment,  forced  to  admit  its  excellence. 
The  next  moment,  he  is  exasperated  by  its  silent  re- 
proach of  his  own  self-indulgent  character.  Though 
Paula  reads  him  no  lectures,  he  half-confesses  her 


1 88  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

superiority,  and  yet  vows  to  humble  her,  because 
her  presence  disturbs  his  self-complacency.  Paula, 
on  the  other  hand,  beholds  in  Orion  great  brilliancy, 
many  shining  possibilities,  many  manly  qualities,  by 
which  she  is  not  a  little  attracted,  still  these  are 
so  beclouded  by  his  lower  passions,  that  she  is 
driven  to  take  shelter  from  his  presence,  in  womanly 
reserve. 

Which  shall  conquer?  Shall  he  humble  her  lofty 
spirit,  which,  by  contrast,  rebukes  him  and  fills  his 
breast  with  a  sense  of  self-abasement?  Shall  she, 
abiding  by  her  high  moral  standard,  lead  him  little 
by  little,  to  a  finer  conception  of  life?  Can  she  ever 
succeed  in  inducing  him  to  abandon  his  youthful 
weaknesses  and  vices,  to  heed  the  responsibilities  of 
his  birth-right,  and  to  realize  his  splendid  oppor- 
tunities? For  years  the  conflict  goes  on,  but  finally 
the  woman  prevails,  and  the  man  becomes  the  bene- 
factor of  the  people  in  whatever  pertains  to  material 
prosperity  and  physical  well-being. 

I  cannot  recall,  in  fiction,  a  happier  illustration  of 
woman's  power,  to  bring  man  up  to  a  recognition  of 
his  obligation,  to  subdue  his  baser  propensities,  and 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  all  within  his  sphere  of 
influence.  You  may  think  of  cases  even  more  strik- 
ing in  the  novel,  or  in  real  life,  but  you  must  admit, 
that,  in  the  realm  of  fancy  and  of  fact,  woman, 
unaided,  can  not  raise  man  above  the  line  which 
separates  the  rights  of  the  creature  from  the  rights 
of  the  Creator.  A  woman  may  transform  an  im- 
Tnoral  man  into  a  moral  man.  But,  if  the  process  is 
to  continue,  and  the  moral  man  is  to  be  transformed 
into  a  religious  man,  a  still  higher  agency  must 
operate,  namely,  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  true  that 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  189 

that  Spirit  may  employ  a  great  variety  of  means;  He 
may  work  through  instrumentalities  animate  and  in- 
animate, still  He  remains  the  original  source  of 
power.  The  spirit  of  woman  is  the  purest  and  most 
exalted  of  these  instrumentalities,  but  it  is  after  all 
only  an  instrumentality,  when  you  pass  from  morals 
to  religion.  Remember  that  morals  concern  our  re- 
lations to  man,  that  religion  concerns  our  relations 
to  God.  Woman,  without  God,  can  lift  man  to  the 
plane  of  morality.  Woman,  without  God,  cannot 
lift  man  to  the  plane  of  religion. 

I  have  dealt  so  long  with  moral  transformation 
that  I  might  draw  the  distinction  very  sharply  be- 
tween that  and  the  religious  transformation,  which  is 
described  in  the  words  of  the  text. 

Do  not  belittle  what  other  agencies  can  accom- 
plish. Magnify  them  to  the  utmost.  Such  fairness 
disarms  criticism,  meets  the  charge  of  narrow-mind- 
edness, and  enables  you  to  set  forth  more  convinc- 
ingly the  nobler  truth  which  you  seek  to  establish. 

When,  then,  the  Spirit  of  God  is  poured  out,  the 
transformation  wrought  is  different,  not  in  degree, 
but  in  kind.  It  is  regeneration,  and  its  product,  a  new 
creature.  We  have  seen  that  sin  can  do  no  more 
than  disturb^spiritual  indifference,  and  excite  spirit- 
ual unrest.  We  have  seen  that  woman,  the  purest 
and  most  exalted  of  created  beings,  can,  at  best, 
only  lead  man  to  a  recognition  of  his  duties  to  his 
fellow  man. 

But  here  is  a  finer  and  mightier  agency,  which  can 
accomplish  all  that  the  others  can  accomplish,  and 
can  also  bring  the  soul  into  harmonious  relations  to 
its  Author,  and  fill  .it  with  the  peace  which  passeth 
understanding. 


190  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

This  blessed  influence  encircles  those  in  every 
period  of  life.  "Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven," 
says  Christ  of  little  children.  "Heaven  lies  about  us 
in  our  infancy,"  says  Wordsworth.  The  voice  of  the 
King  and  that  of  the  seer  are  in  happiest  accord. 
Such  is  the  general  tenor  of  the  gospel  and  of  com- 
mon experience. 

The  text,  however,  does  not  linger  with  those  of 
that  tender  age,  but  speaks  first  of  sons  and  daugh- 
ters, boys  and  girls,  those  who  are  old  enough  to 
bear  specific  testimony  to  the  change  which  is 
described.  As  a  result  of  what  has  taken  place,  they 
"prophesy."  Here,  as  often  elsewhere  in  Holy  Writ, 
the  word  does  not  signify  to  foretell  events,  but  to 
declare  that  which  is  not  the  suggestion  of  nature; 
that  which  would  have  remained  unknown,  without 
supernatural  intervention.  This  is  not  to  claim  that 
the  change  always  takes  place  "with  observation." 
The  contrary  is  true  in  many  instances.  But,  without 
discussing  the  question  of  dating  conversion,  it  is 
sufficient  for  the  present  purpose  to  maintain  that, 
after  conversion,  the  boy  and  girl  do  lead  a  different 
life,  do  speak  a  different  language,  do  bear  witness 
to  a  different  range  of  experience.  This  is  most 
conspicuous  in  a  season  of  revival.  The  view  is 
clearer  and  the  barriers  of  reserve  are  swept  away,  so 
that  we  look  in  upon  the  secrets  of  the  soul.  One 
encourages  another  to  free  expression.  Sometimes, 
doubtless,  this  leads  to  impulsive  over-statement, 
still  proper  care  will  enable  us  to  discriminate  be- 
tween the  fanciful  and  morbid,  and  the  genuine  and 
wholesome,  in  these  revelations  of  the  inner  life. 
Throw  out  all  that  is  fictitious  and  exaggerated,  and 
there  will  remain  what  may  be  taken  safely  as  the 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 

substantial  experience  of  those  in  question.  You 
can  not  doubt  that  the  declarations  are  sincere.  You 
can  not  doubt  that  they  fairly  reflect  what  is  trans- 
piring within  the  heart.  Now,  it  is  very  desirable 
that  this  freedom  of  expression  should  continue  after 
the  period  of  wide-spread  religious  interest  has 
passed. 

An  unobtrusive,  but  confident  avowal  of  what  God 
is  to  them  every  day  is  most  becoming  in  boys  and 
girls.  It  acts  as  a  safe-guard  against  relapse,  first 
into  indifference,  and  then  into  positive  wickedness. 
It  rebukes  the  doubts  and  confirms  the  faith  of  their 
associates,  and  of  those  more  mature  in  years.  The 
golden  mean  should  be  sought  between  undue  re- 
serve and  undue  exposure,  concerning  these  sacred 
relations  of  the  child  to  its  heavenly  Father. 

The  danger  used  to  be  in  the  former  direction. 
The  subject  of  religion  was  so  presented  that  boys 
and  girls  came  near  it  with  bated  breath  and  palpi- 
tating hearts,  as  they  came  near  a  haunted  house,  or 
a  grave-yard  after  night-fall.  They  learned  to  speak, 
in  holy  tones,  of  shadowy  fears  and  trembling  hopes. 
Cheerful  confidence  seemed  presumption,  out- 
spoken assurance,  a  profanation  of  the  holy  of 
holies. 

Some  think  that  we  are  rushing  to  the  other  ex- 
treme; that  we  are  destroying  reverence;  that  we  are 
coarsening  the  relation  between  the  finite  spirit  and 
the  infinite  Spirit;  that  the  current  of  religious  ex- 
perience is  no  longer  permitted  to  flow  on  deep  and 
silent,  but  is  drawn  off  into  a  broader  but  shallower 
bed,  over  which  it  spends  itself  in  froth  and  noisy 
demonstration. 

Such  warnings  ought  to  be  heeded.     We  should 


192  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

not  forget  the  temptations  to  insincerity,  pretension,, 
cant  and  hypocrisy,  to  which  the  young  as  well  as 
the  old  are  exposed.  Still,  boys  and  girls  whose 
hearts  have  been  changed  by  the  Spirit  '  of  God, 
should  foster  the  habit  of  testifying  modestly,  but 
joyfully,  concerning  the  preciousness  of  redemption. 
The  young  people's  societies  of  various  names  are 
the  normal  training  schoolsfor  such  religious  devel- 
opment. Let  the  churches  withhold  from  them 
neither  faithful  caution  nor  inspiring  commendation. 

Thus  shall  not  only  sons  and  daughters  "  proph- 
esy," but  young  men  and  women  "see  visions,"  not 
merely  such  visions  as  delight  all,  at  this  intoxicat- 
ing season,  but  visions  which  blend  the  transient 
with  the  permanent,  time  with  eternity.  Visions  of 
youth  !  What  can  be  more  entrancing  ?  The 
pulse  quickens  at  the  mention.  Childhood  catches 
some  idea  of  their  full  meaning  from  its  own  half 
suggestions  of  coming  possibilities,  and  impatiently 
crowds  forward  that  the  tantalizing  glimpse  may  be 
exchanged  for  the  well  defined  pictures  of  a  more 
mature  imagination. 

These  visions  may  be  terrestrial  only,  or  they  may 
mingle  the  terrestial  with  the  celestial,  but  visions  of 
some  sort  youth  must  have. 

Those  of  the  terrestrial  kind  are  earth-born.  Some 
reveal  shapes  gross  and  carnal.  Others  display 
forms  material  but  beautiful.  Others  still,  shine 
with  the  brilliant  creations  of  chivalry  anc  romance. 
These  reach  the  very  border-land  of  the  spiritual, 
and  often  seem  to  fetch  the  divine  within  their  com- 
pass. After  they  have  vanished,  second  childhood 
looks  back  to  them  as  eagerly  as  first  childhood  had 
looked  forward  to  them,  and,  in  the  retrospect,  half 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  193 

forgets  its  feebleness  and  forlornness.  I  would  not 
speak  contemptuously  of  these  more  radiant  terres- 
trial visions  of  young  manhood  and  young  woman 
hood.  Nay,  I  recognize  in  them  the  sweetest  and 
most  blessed  gifts  which  this  world  has  to  bestow. 

"The  buried  dream  in  life's  sluggish  stream, 
Is  the  golden  sand  of  our  young  ambition," 

sang  John  O'Reilly.  There  would  be  a  witchery  in 
the  smile  of  beauty,  there  would  be  an  ecstacy  in 
the  voice  of  love;  a  halo  would  encircle  virtue,  and 
heroism  would  wear  a  crown  resplendent,  even  were 
there  no  thought  of  the  life  immortal. 

But,  O  young  men  and  young  women,  hope  of 
home,  hope  of  society,  hope  of  the  commonwealth, 
hope  of  the  republic,  hope  of  human  civilization, 
there  is  something  better  still.  Once  let  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  transform  your  hearts,  and 
visions  more  glorious  shall  break  upon  the  view. 
Nothing  truly  precious  will  fade  out  of  what  you 
have  previously  cherished. 

The  celestial  will  first  transfigure  the  terrestrial. 

Beauty's  smile  will  be  more  entrancing,  love's 
voice  will  thrill  as  never  before,  the  halo  of  virtue 
will  grow  supernal,  and  the  crown  of  heroism,  hith- 
erto resplendent,  will  glow  in  the  light  from  beyond 
the  stars.  And  then  your  vision  shall  sweep  on  be- 
yond these  bounds  of  time  and  sense,  and  reveal 
the  now  open  secrets  of  the  endless  life — those 
things  which  the  natural  eye  hath  not  seen,  which 
the  natural  ear  hath  not  heard,  and  which  it  hath 
not  entered  into  the  natural  man  to  conceive.  "  I 
have  kept  well  the  bird  in  my  bosom,"  said  Sir  Ralph 
Percy,  as  he  lay  dying  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Believe  me,  these  are  no  idle  visions  like  those  in 


194  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

which  opium-eaters  and  lotus-eaters  revel.  These 
bring  the  soul  no  aimless  reverie.  They  are  its  in- 
spiration to  noblest  activities.  I  hear  you  cry, 
"Thank  God  for  such  revelations  unto  us  of  what 
may  be,  must  be,  shall  be  realized,  partly  on  earth, 
partly  in  heaven.  Thank  God  that  he  calleth  us  to 
this  blessed  work  for  time  and  for  eternity."  Yes, 
welcome  always  whatever  the  Lord  giveth  you  thus 
to  see,  as  the  divine  intimation  of  what  he  would 
have  you  seek  to  be  and  to  do.  These  are  the  vis- 
ions of  youth  to  which  he  biddeth  you  be  true. 

One  precious  reward  of  such  obedience  will  be 
that  these  visions  will  gradually  change  into  the 
dreams  of  old  age.  Such  transition  is  tranquil  and 
happy.  The  morning  freshness,  the  impulsive  ea- 
gerness, the  irrepressible  enthusiasm,  the  indefatig- 
able activities  of  the  earlier  day  may  pass  away,  but 
the  spirit  of  the  vision  will  remain  in  the  spirit  of 
the  dream. 

Religious  imagination  paints  the  same  pictures  for 
the  delight  of  the  soul  in  old  age.  The  outlines  are 
not  so  sharp,  the  figures  in  the  foreground  do  not 
stand  out  in  colors  so  vivid  and  bold;  but  there  is 
greater  depth  of  perspective,  a  mellower  atmosphere, 
a  more  tranquil  hope.  And  the  dream  is  no  more 
idle  than  was  the  vision.  Though  the  movement  has 
become  less  tense  and  nervous,  it  is  never  intermitted. 
The  tides  of  physical  life  have  spent  their  violence, 
but  they  maintain  a  steady  ebb  and  flow.  Spiritual 
activities  happily  adjust  themselves  to  these  changed 
bodily  conditions.  Labors  of  love  in  the  service  of 
man  and  for  the  glory  of  Zion,  though  less  conspic- 
uous, are  no  less  acceptable  to  him  who  seeth  in  se- 
cret, and  who  awardeth  special  honor  to  those  silent 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS.  195 

forces  which  are  the  great  reserved  power  in  the  king- 
dom ot  nature  and  in  the  kingdom  of  grace. 

And  thus  old  age  may  journey  down  its  glowing 
west,  dreaming  its  inspiring  dream,  and  fulfilling  its 
beneficent  mission,  till  it  reaches  the  peaceful  sea 
and  joins  in  the  parting  song: 

"  Twilight  and  evening  bells, 

And  after  that  the  dark; 

And  let  there  be  no  moaning  of  farewells 

When  I  embark. 

"For  though  from  out  the  bourne  of  time  and  place, 

The  floods  may  bear  me  far; 

I  hope  to  see  my  PILOT  face  to  face, 

When  I  have  crossed  the  bar." 


"SCATTERETH  YET  INCREASETH." 

"  There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth." — Prov.  xi:  24. 

A  young  man  of  twenty-three  has  fought  his  way 
through  college,  has  finished  the  study  of  law  and  is 
ready  for  practice.  He  is  very  poor.  A  dollar  looks 
big. 

Just  then,  to  him  in  that  Boston  office,  comes  the 
offer  of  a  county  clerkship,  at  two  thousand  a  year. 
Father  and  mother  bid  him  accept  the  position. 
Never  before  had  it  seemed  so  easy  to  keep  the  fifth 
commandment.  He  rushes  excitedly  into  the  pres- 
ence of  his  teacher,  for  congratulation  and  a  parting 
blessing.  But  the  latter,  with  frowning  brow,  reads 
the  letter  and  hands  it  back,  remarking,  "Your  mis- 
sion is  to  make  opinions  for  other  men  to  record, 
and  not  to  be  a  clerk,  to  record  the  opinions  of 
courts." 

Objection  after  objection  is  met,  and  the  appointee 
sets  out  for  his  New  Hampshire  home,  pledged  to 
decline  the  situation.  The  worst  is  to  come.  He  is 
welcomed  at  the  threshold  with  embraces  and  kisses, 
by  those  whose  old  age  he  can  still  surround  with 
ease  and  comfort.  The  struggle  is  fierce.  Before 
him  are  pleading  suggestions  of  filial  affection,  of  a 
tranquil  life,  of  a  liberal  income  and  of  assured 
respectability.  But,  above  him,  there  is  a  voice  in 
the  air. 

He  makes  known  his  resolution.  An  angry  scene 
ensues.  The  father  dismisses  the  son,  exclaiming: 
"Silly,  crazy  boy!  Daniel,  you  have  come  to  no- 


"SCATTERETH  YET  INCREASETH."  197 

thing."  And  the  youth  goes  and  rents  an  office  at 
$15  per  annum,  and  hangs  out  a  cheap  sign,  and,  at 
the  end  of  two  full  years,  the  sum  total  of  his  tees 
is  less  than  $40.  Where  are  the  $4,000?  "Scattered." 
A  quarter  of  a  century  has  passed.  The  occupant 
has  moved  out  of  that  dingy  room  in  the  old  red 
store.  The  senate  chamber  at  Washington  is  bril- 
liant with  beauty  and  graced  with  genius,  beauty  and 
genius  entranced  as  never  before  within  these  walls. 
Webster  is  answering  Hayne. 

"There  is  that  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth." 
The  outer  leaf  of  biography  often  infolds  another, 
stamped  like  itself,  and  written  over  with  similar 
meaning.  Said  one  to  the  sage  of  Marshfield,  "Was 
that  speech  extemporaneous?"  Replied  Webster: 
"Young  man,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  extemporan- 
eous acquisition."  "  The  materials  for  that  speech 
had  been  in  my  mind  for  eighteen  months."  Such 
was  the  fact.  The  subject  had  been  carefully  studied 
for  another  expected  emergency.  That  occasion  did 
not  come,  and  those  papers  were  laid  away  as  labor 
lost.  But  such  toil  is  never  wasted.  Watch  over  the 
right  with  sleepless  eye.  Equip  yourself  for  her  de- 
fense, on  the  first  suspicion  of  peril.  Though  the  alarm 
prove  false,  and  you  unbuckle  your  armor  unused, 
that  armor  is  consecrated  to  holy  service.  It  will 
hang  without  tarnishing,  in  the  temple  of  truth.  You 
shall  prove  it  in  battle  some  other  day.  Said  the 
orator:  "When  Hayne  took  the  floor,  if  he  had  tried 
to  make  a  speech  to  fit  those  old  notes  of  mine,  he 
could  not  have  hit  it  better."  "No  man  is  inspired 
with  the  occasion." 

Let  us  open  another  biography,  rich  in   kindred 
instruction.     Again  we  enter  a  lawyer's  office.     The 


198  SERMON'S  AND  ADDRESSES' 

student  has  left  his  note-book  on  the  table.  Turn  to 
the  first  page  and  read  the  words  of  Coke:  "Holding 
this  for  an  undoubted  verity,  that  there  is  no  knowl- 
edge, case,  or  point  in  law,  seem  it  of  never  so  little 
account,  but  will  stand  our  student  in  stead,  at  one 
time  or  other."  And  again :  "A  lawyer  must  know 
everything.  He  must  know  law,  history,  philosophy, 
human  nature;  and,  if  he  courts  the  fame  of  an  ad- 
vocate, he  must  drink  of  all  the  springs  of  litera- 
ture, giving  ease  and  elegance  to  the  mind,  and  illus- 
tration to  whatever  subject  it  touches." 

This  is  the  key-note  of  a  career  illustrious  in  Am- 
erican history.  Is  there  any  flatting  in  the  tone? 
Strike  again  the  text  with  its  silver  tines:  "  There  is 
that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth."  We  are  still  in 
tune. 

Thus  opens  the  way  to  a  chair,  as  associate  in- 
.structor  with  a  Greenleaf  and  a  Story.  But  the  youth 
cannot  rest  easy,  even  there.  He  starts  up,  restless 
with  visions  of  "  Men,  society,  courts  and  parlia- 
ments." His  thoughts  will  take  wing  from  quiet 
Cambridge,  now  to  Paris,  now  to  London,  now  to 
Rome.  He  must  go  and  know.  He  must  meet,  face 
to  face,  those  whose  word  is  law,  in  the  realms  of 
art,  literature  and  politics.  Friends  remonstrate. 
President  Quincy  tells  him  that  Europe  will  spoil 
him,  sending  him  home  with  a  mustache  and  a 
cane."  But  his  resolution  is  inflexible.  Wonderful 
is  the  story  of  the  reception  given  everywhere  upon 
the  continent,  to  this  young  republican,  as  yet  un- 
known to  fame.  There  has  been  nothing  else  like  it  in 
our  annals.  He  returns.  For  two  years  he  does  noth- 
ing. He  seems  surfeited.  His  friends  are  distressed. 
His  life,  say  they,  is  to  be  a  splendid  failure.  For 


"SCATTERETH  YET  INCREASETH"         199 

three  years  more,  they  watch  the  case  with  only  trif- 
ling encouragement.  But,  across  the  sea,  in  the 
very  midst  of  that  old  world  bewilderment,  a  big 
idea  had  entered  a  big  brain.  There,  was  first  re- 
vealed to  Charles  Sumner  the  dim  outlines  of  "The 
True  Grandeur  of  Nations."  It  took  six  years  to 
give  it  distinctness  and  full  possession  of  the  soul. 
Then  dawned  July  4th,  1845.  And  the  man  broke 
the  silence,  and  the  republic  and  the  world  clapped 
hands.  That  oration  was  to  Charles  Sumner,  what 
the  reply  to  Hayne  was  to  Webster.  Each  proved 
the  decisive  effort  of  a  life-time.  Each  gave  its  au- 
thor immortality. 

For  the  present  purpose  it  is  needless  to  continue 
these  biographies,  Thus  far  they  furnish  happy 
illustrations  of  the  doctrine  of  the  text,  in  the  lower 
zone  of  its  application.  They  show  us  how  the 
words,  "There  is  that scattereth,  andyetincreaseth,"' 
in  their  majestic  sweep  take  in  such  mere  worldly 
success  as  is  noblest.  These  examples  are  not  caught 
up  at  random,  but  are  chosen  with  a  definite  end 
in  view. 

It  is  manifest  to  one  who  studies  the  present  drift 
of  college  life,  that  our  youth  are  attracted  more 
and  more  toward  law,  which,  in  turn,  becomes 
the  stepping  stone  to  political  power.  Patriotism 
says,  put  the  destinies  of  the  country  into  the  hands 
of  men  of  the  most  liberal  culture,  men  who  have 
been  schooled  from  boyhood  to  sacrifice  the  present 
for  the  future,  the  expedient  for  the  true,  the  tran- 
sient for  the  permanent.  It  is  to  be  more  and  more 
the  mission  of  the  American  college  to  furnish,  not 
only  ministers  of  church,  but  also  ministers  of  state. 
Her  office  in  the  first  capacity  has  often  been  lauded 


2OO  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

most  worthily.  The  suggestion,  to-night,  of  the  dig- 
nity of  her  calling  in  the  second  direction,  needs  no 
apology.  Let,  then,  our  young  men  who  are  aspir- 
ing to  public  station,  learn  to  "scatter"  like  a  Webster 
or  a  Sumner,  that  such  may  be  the  increase. 

Thus  far  all  has  been  praise.  To  say  no  more, 
however,  would  leave  a  false  impression.  We  are 
not  at  liberty  to  call  up  the  shades  of  the  great  de- 
parted, and  dismiss  them  with  fulsome  panegyric. 

We  have,  up  to  this  point,  been  walking  on  the 
plane  of  what  the  godless  world  would  call  success. 
On  that  level  there  has  been  nothing  to  censure. 
Thus  the  kings  of  men  get  their  crowns.  But  there 
is  a  higher  realm  of  spiritual  excellence  where  the 
crowns  are  incorruptible,  and  when  these  two  famous 
diplomatists  are  put  on  trial  there,  they  are  found 
found  wanting.  They  cease  to  be  an  example. 
They  become  a  warning. 

Webster's  view  of  the  divine  majesty  was  exceed- 
ingly noble.  In  hours  of  retirement  he  sometimes 
seemed  to  stand,  as  it  were,  in  the  very  shadow  of 
Jehovah.  There  was  then  a  dignity  in  his  utterance 
to  which  ordinary  speech  is  a  stranger.  Said  Im- 
manuel  Kant:  "Two  things  fill  me  with  awe,  the 
starry  heavens,  and  the  sense  of  moral  responsibility 
in  man."  To  such  a  sentiment  the  orator  was  ready 
to  bow  his  head,  and  respond  with  a  reverent  Amen. 
It  is  easy  to  picture  him,  waiting  as  an  august  em- 
bassador  in  the  outer  court  of  the  Almighty,  ready  to 
read  some  great  state  paper  at  the  foot  of  the  throne. 
There  is  no  occasion  to  criticise  his  attitude,  when  he 
appears  face  to  face  with  God.  Banish  the  world 
from  sight,  then  catechise  him  concerning  the  attri- 
butes of  the  Most  High,  and  you  would  find  no  fault 


"SCATTERETH   YET  INCREASETH."  2OI 

with  the  upper  outlook  of  his  creed.  But  that  was 
the  sum  and  substance  of  his  religion.  It  was  only 
a  thing  of  the  clouds,  a  gifted  Lucifer's  passing 
dream,  vanishing  before  the  seductions  of  carnality 
and  the  terrible  strain  of  that  presidential  ambition, 
which  tantalized  till  death. 

Webster's  enthusiasm  for  self  killed  his  enthusiasm 
for  humanity,  and  the  Nones  of  March  were  to  him 
as  the  Ides  of  March  were  to  Caesar.  An  exalted 
intellectual  conception  of  God  is  well;  but  it  will 
not  atone  for  trampling  on  the  rights  of  the  hum- 
blest man. 

Sumner,  on  the  contrary,  never  proved  false  to  the 
rights  of  man.  His  heart  remained  true  to  his  kind. 
With  him  it  was  the  upper  outlook  that  was  obscured. 
Let  him  speak  for  himself:  "  I  do  not  think  that  I 
have  a  basis  for  faith  to  build  upon.  I  seldom  refer 
my  happiness  to  the  Great  Father  from  whose  mercy 
it  is  derived.  Of  the  first  great  commandment,  then, 
upon  which  so  much  hangs,  I  live  in  perpetual  uncon- 
sciousness." A  life-long  service  in  the  cause  of  lib- 
erty is  well,  but  it  will  not  atone  for  insolently  waiv- 
ing the  claims  of  a  Heavenly  Father's  love. 

I  have  wished  to  make  emphatic  the  political  bear- 
ing of  the  doctrine,  seeking,  both  by  the  commend- 
ation and  the  condemnation  of  two  illustrious  ex- 
amples, to  present  the  ideal  statesman,  not  as  he  has 
been,  not  as  he  is,  but  as  he  shall  be,  when  love  to 
God  and  love  to  man  have  recognition  as  the  common 
law  of  government  on  earth. 

This  will  explain  what  might  seem  an  undue  promi- 
nence to  one  division  of  the  sermon.  There  is  this 
additional  advantage  in  such  a  treatment  of  the  sub- 


2O2  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ject  :*  the  examples  held  up  before  you  so  long  are 
remarkable  for  scope  of  illustration.  They  ray  out 
in  all  directions.  They  enlighten  the  whole  province 
of  truth  covered  by  the  text,  so  that  it  is  unnecessary 
to  expand  the  thought  with  equal  pains  in  other  de- 
partments. A  single  suggestion  will  enable  the  mind 
to  pass  rapidly  and  easily  from  vocation  to  vocation, 
till  the  compass  of  the  idea  is  seen  to  be  universal. 
"  There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth." 

Take  the  principle  into  business.  Thus  princely 
fortunes  are  made.  The  trading  posts  of  an  Astor 
are  "scattered  "  from  the  Hudson  to  the  Columbia. 
The  steamers  of  a  Vanderbilt  go  ploughing  up  and 
down  the  Gulf  Stream,  while  the  long  fingers  of  that 
iron  hand  are  thrust  out  to  find  the  very  heart  of 
the  continent.  So  far,  imitate.  Thus  a  world's  re- 
sources are  to  be  developed.  But  what  did  either 
millionaire  care  for  God  or  for  man?  And  what  does 
God  or  man  care  for  either  of  them  to-day? 

In  the  department  of  literary  criticism,  the  two 
brighest  names  of  the  century  are  Macaulay  and 
Sainte  Beuve.  How  far-reaching  is  the  plan  of  the 
former,  when  he  decides  to  become  a  public  censor. 
He  would  be  impartial  in  judgment.  But  his  fortune 
is  humble,  and  he  recognizes  the  danger  of  being 
warped  in  his  estimates  by  pecuniary  considera- 
tions. So,  bidding  adieu  to  country,  and  all 
thoughts  of  early  fame,  he  sails  for  distant  India,  to 
gain  there  a  competence  that  he  maybe  independent 
of  party  and  above  suspicion  of  servility.  That  was 
a  weary  "scattering,"  but  it  is  all  forgotten  as  you 
read  this  tribute  to  his  memory:  "  Macaulay  never 
wrote  a  line  that  would  degrade  honor,  or  liberty,  or 


"SCATTERETH    YET  INCREASETH." 


203 


virtue."  Why  could  he  not  have  kept  down 
that  monstrous  egotism,  that  great  I  Am,  that  always 
seemed  to  walk  between  him  and  a  still  greater  "  I 
Am,"  and  to  make  him  utterly  oblivious  of  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  other  mortals  ? 

You  will  find  nothing  more  admirable  of  its  kind 
than  the  literary  workmanship  of  a  Sainte  Beuve, 
both  in  exhaustive  research  and  fineness  of  finish. 
There  was  no  province  too  remote  for  his  thought  to 
explore.  No  shining  sentence  might  go  forth  to  the 
world  so  long  as  diamond  dust  would  add  to  its  lus- 
tre. Yet,  though  the  most  discriminating  critic  of 
the  masters  of  pulpit  eloquence,  he  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  Jehovah,  and  died  and  was  buried  as  a 
heathen. 

It  is  possible  to  live  thus,  just  above  man,  and  just 
below  God. 

The  tiny  fingers  of  a  child  of  five  grasp  an  artist's 
pencil.  Through  the  day  the  boy  sits  alone  in  his 
little  room,  studying,  marking,  erasing,  and  at  eve- 
ning takes  down  in  triumph  to  his  father,  the  picture 
of  an  African  lion.  It  is  the  beginning  of  a  notable 
career.  From  that  time  the  child  roams  over  the 
fields,  not  like  his  fellows,  chasing  butterflies,  but 
catching  after  colors  which  float  on  wings  of  light. 
Or,  when  his  young  feet  weary  in  following  the  evan- 
escent, he  casts  himself  upon  the  shore  and  rests, 
dreaming  such  dreams  as  are  only  ocean-born, 
dreams  such  as  Homer  knew,  when  he  sang  of  the 
"many-voiced  sea." 

As  time  passes  on,  you  may  follow  the  man  with 
his  note-book  and  staff  all  over  Britain  and  Europe. 
Thus,  for  fifty  years,  does  his  genius,  with  pillar  of 


204  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

cloud  and  pillar  of  fire,  lead  him  up  and  down  the 
world,  to  the  land  of  the  artist's  vision.  "There  is 
that  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth."  So  it  is  written 
on  the  canvas  of  William  Turner,  the  chief  of  land- 
scape painters. 

But  what  of  the  character  behind  the  canvas? 
Through  life,  it  seems  like  that  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
belittled,  degraded  by  avarice;  yet  when  the  seal 
of  his  will  is  broken,  and  all  those  savings 
are  found  to  be  left  for  the  benefit  of  needy 
brethren  in  his  profession,  even  such  restricted 
love  for  his  kind,  casts  a  softening  light  over 
what  appeared  repulsive.  Surely  through  the 
sustaining  power  of  a  purpose  so  noble  he 
may  die  with  a  song.  Look  upon  him,  however, 
as  he  lies,  week  after  week,  alone  and  melancholy, 
watching  the  ever-flowing  river,  the  ever-disappear- 
ing sails,  the  ever-varying  clouds.  These  have  been 
the  joy  of  his  imagination:  but  what  are  river,  and 
sail,  and  cloud,  to  the  soul  that  for  seventy-five  years 
has,  in  the  glories  of  creation,  forgotten  the  glory  of 
the  Creator? 

Pass,  now,  from  art  to  science.  By  many,  the 
scientist  is  looked  upon  as  nothing  but  a  blasphemous 
Shimei,  casting  stones  at  the  Lord's  Anointed.  He 
is  often  spoken  of,  as  if  his  modern  prominence  were 
due  only  to  the  notoriety  which  springs  from  oppo- 
sition to  written  revelation.  There  are  good  men  who 
never  think  of  measuring  John  Tyndall  by  anything 
but  a  prayer  gauge.  Let  them,  however,  forget  for  the 
time  this  theological  odium,  and  study  his  work  in 
his  own  domain.  His  patient  research  is  enough  to 
put  to  the  blush  the  bold  assumptions  and  hasty 
generalizations  of  many  who  claim  high  rank  as  re- 


'SCATTERETH  YET  INCREASETH: 


205 


ligious  priests  and  prophets  and  sages.  Follow  him 
through  all  that  tedious  and,  seemingly,  blind  exper- 
imenting, to  get  at  the  exact  truth,  no  matter  what 
the  cost,  no  matter  though  it  may  bring  down  in 
ruins  the  fair  structure  of  previous  speculations,  and 
compel  him  to  begin  all  over  again.  Such  "scatter- 
ing" gives  increase.  Confining  the  view  to  the 
material  world,  the  century  has  not  produced  a  more 
shining  name.  In  the  domain  of  sight,  the  world  has 
no  more  wonderful  seer.  But  to  the  yet  higher  do- 
main of  faith,  he  has  never  found  the  way.  I  make 
no  reference  to  those  grosser  attacks  upon  a  belief 
which  is  infinitely  precious  to  such  as  love  to  bend 
the  knee  and  say:  "Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven." 

Simply  contrast  the  peace  of  the  Christian,  in  the 
communion  of  the  still  hour,  in  the  felt  presence  of 
God,  and  the  unrest  which  the  quick  ear  may  detect 
in  the  musings  of  the  materialist,  on  the  mountain 
top,  face  to  face  with  the  clouds.  "  Did  yonder 
formless  fog  contain,  potentially,  the  sadness  with 
which  I  regarded  the  Matterhorn?  Did  the  thought 
which  now  ran  back  to  it,  simply  return  to  its 
primeval  home?" 

Misguided  philosopher!  The  primeval  home  thereof 
is  not  in  the  nebulae,  but  in  that  personal  God,  in 
whom  you  live  and  move  and  have  your  being. 

I  must  not  weary  you  by  unduly  lengthening  this 
chain  of  illustration.  Let  theology  close  the  circuit. 
Four  years  in  college,  three  years  in  the  seminary; 
how  can  I  wait  so  long?  Such  is  too  often  the  ex- 
clamation of  the  boy  whose  heart  turns  toward  the 
pulpit.  The  present  may  well  listen  to  the  past.  A 
youth  has  made  the  cross  his  banner.  He  has  com- 
pleted the  common  course  in  the  college  of  his 


206  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

native  town.  But  there  is  no  unseemly  haste  to 
minister  at  the  altar.  We  read  awhile  ago,  upon  the 
standard  of  another,  the  prophetic  words:  "  Men, 
society,  courts  and  parliaments."  But  upon  the  cross 
of  this  one  there  is  a  strange  inscription:  "A  God, 
a  Christ,  a  bishop,  a  king."  That  he  may  realize  an 
ideal  so  grand,  ten  other  years  are  devoted  to  la- 
borious study  of  theology,  and  to  preparation  for 
speaking  on  sacred  themes.  And,  by  and  by,  the 
king  gives  him  audience,  and  bishop's  robes  await 
him,  and  the  love  of  a  Christ  and  the  majesty  of  a 
God  are  the  inspiration  of  his  tongue.  '•  Scattering 
and  increase  ! "  It  is  Bossuet,  the  greatest  pulpit 
orator  of  France.  Another  has  said  that  on  the  fly- 
leaf of  his  noblest  discourses  you  may  read: 
"  Preached  before  the  king."  Suggestive  words! 
They  tell  a  double  story.  The  conception  is  high. 
Speak  royally,  so  that  Louis  Fourteenth  and  his 
brilliant  court  shall  hear. 

But  there  is  a  higher  conception.  "  Preached  be- 
fore the  king!"  Yes,  the  Thorn-crowned,  whose  su- 
preme test  of  pulpit  excellence  is  this:  "The  poor 
have  the  gospel  preached  unto  them." 

Webster,  Sumner,  Astor,  Vanderbilt,  Macaulay, 
Sainte  Beuve,  Turner,  Tyndall,  Bossuet,  —  monu- 
mental men,  in  politics,  business,  literature,  art, 
science  and  theology,  but  unfinished  structures,  all, 
with  broad  and  solid  earthly  foundation,  and  differ- 
ing altitude,  some  displaying  little  more  than  a 
massive  base,  some  half  complete,  some  lacking  only 
the  capital. 

A  broken  column  is  in  itself  a  sermon.  We  get  in- 
struction from  what  is,  and  from  what  is  not.  The 
mind  feels  the  tangible,  and  then  the  imagination 


"SCATTERETH   YET  INCREASETH."  207 

runs   the  visible  up  into  the  invisible,  and  though 
we  turn  away  saying: 

"  Of  all  the  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these,  it  might  have  been," 

still  the  lesson  is  most  impressive,  pervasive   and 
abiding. 


FAITH. 
"And  now  abideth  faith." — I  Corinthians  xiii:  13. 

I  happened  to  be  "on  change"  in  Chicago  one  day 
when  the  wheat  market  went  to  pieces,  creating 
great  excitement. 

With  a  commission  merchant,  I  watched  the 
course  of  events.  In  the  general  babel,  there  seemed 
to  be  nothing  to  hold  men  to  their  contracts,  except 
an  interjection,  a  nod,  an  outstretched  finger  or 
fingers,  and  a  pencil  mark  upon  a  card.  Said  I  to 
my  friend:  "In  this  wild  confusion  of  profit  and 
loss,  are  the  safe-guards  sufficient?  Will  there  not 
be  disputes  and  wranglings  over  alleged  blunders 
and  misunderstandings?"  "  No,"  he  replied,  "such 
things  rarely  occur.  Mutual  interest  compels  us  to 
regard  every  nod,  gesture  and  entry,  as  we  would  a 
bond  in  court.  The  moment  it  is  admitted  that  faith 
may  be  broken  here,  this  whole  system  of  exchange 
goes  down  in  ruins." 

With  that  answer  there  flashed  upon  me  a  new 
view  of  that  old  subject,  faith.  Thence  comes  the 
sermon  this  morning.  Even  where  we  look  for  her 
least,  Faith  appears,  and,  furthermore,  she  does  not 
come  as  a  transient  guest.  She  establishes  her  home 
and  remains  there.  In  a  great  association,  made  up 
mainly  of  honorable  men,  but  embracing  not  a  few, 
whose  honesty  is  secured  solely  by  self-interest, 
there  has  to  be  one  steadying,  unifying  principle,  to 
prevent  the  dissolution  of  the  organization. 

That  principle  is  abiding  faith.     That  magnificent 


FAITH. 


209 


building,  where  fortunes  are  constantly  made  and 
lost,  where  nothing  seems  secure,  where  the  weak 
and  the  strong  meet  for  the  struggle,  where  too  often 
the  loss  of  the  one  is  the  gain  of  the  other,  where 
too  often  the  fall  of  the  former  is  the  rise  of  the 
latter,  where  day  by  day  men  are  wild  with  excite- 
ment; rent,  torn  with  a  craze  for  wealth,  like  those 
possessed  by  the  evil  spirit — that  magnificent  build- 
ing, apparently  fit  for  a  shrine  of  unrighteous 
Mammon  only,  proves  to  be  a  temple  which  must  be 
kept  sacred  to  Faith,  also,  or  stand  empty  and  deso- 
late. 

There  is  no  other  place  in  the  world  which  seems 
so  pervaded  with  an  atmosphere  of  insecurity,  dis- 
trust, selfish  greed,  recklessness,  and  wild  chance 
utterly  regardless  of  any  rational  law  of  supply  and 
demand,  as  the  merchants'  exchange  in  a  great  city. 
Yet,  after  all,  paradoxical  as  it  may  sound,  a  board 
of  trade  would  be  an  impossibility,  but  for  an  ever- 
abiding  faith  among  its  members.  Wall  street  would 
vanish  should  Faith,  in  utter  disgust  and  despair 
over  what  she  is  compelled  to  witness,  abandon  the 
world. 

The  same  principle  rules  all  departments  of  busi- 
ness. Banks  can  not  be  conducted  without  it.  Free 
banking  rests  on  the  belief  that  the  issue  of  bills  will 
be  kept  within  a  safe  ratio  to  cash  and  available  as- 
sets. Our  national  banking  system  rests  on  a  general 
confidence,  that  the  government  will  make  herself 
and  her  people  financially  safe.  Whenever  a  man 
offers  a  deposit,  and  receives  only  a  ticket  or  a  book 
entry,  his  act  is  an  act  of  faith.  As  he  leans  upon  the 
counter,  that  counter  is  an  altar  of  faith  between  the 
contracting  parties.  Whenever  you  buy  a  draft, 


2IO  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

there  is  a  double  testimony.  You  declare  your  con- 
fidence in  the  banker  and  the  banker  declares  his 
confidence  in  his  New  York  or  London  corres- 
pondent. 

Say  what  we  will  about  cheating  and  swindling  in 
buying  and  selling,  though  the  practice  is  shamefully 
common,  there  does  prevail  a  substantial  faith  be- 
tween the  great  body  of  merchants  and  customers. 
Though  the  former  may  adopt  the  cash  system,  they 
find  themselves  compelled  to  give  credit,  more  or 
less,  every  day.  Though  the  latter  may  profess  to 
have  no  confidence  in  a  salesman's  statements,  there 
is  scarcely  a  purchase  which  has  not  been  expedited 
by  the  salesman's  representations.  Notwithstanding 
all  the  knavery  of  the  world,  notwithstanding  the 
numerous  impositions  to  which  we  are  constantly 
subjected,  there  is  an  ever-enduring  faith  of  man  in 
man.  It  is  in  the  blood.  It  will  stay.  So  strong  is 
this  propensity,  that  no  matter  how  many  times  we 
have  been  deceived,  we  can  not  help  believing,  just 
once  more. 

Even  stronger  is  the  tendency  in  man  to  believe  in 
woman,  and  in  woman  to  believe  in  man.  Secret  and 
open  iniquities  do  abound.  Scandals  fill  the  public 
prints.  Low  life  and  high  life  reek  with  uncleanness. 
But  each  sex  will  cling  to  its  faith  in  the  other, 
though  it  may  grow  skeptical  of  all  else  on  earth. 
Such  is  God's  law  written  in  the  heart  of  hearts. 

Destroy  the  faith  of  man  in  man  and  you  paralize 
trade,  you  stop  the  wheels  of  exchange,  you  prostrate 
commerce,  you  spread  financial  ruin  everywhere. 

Destroy  the  faith  of  man  and  woman  in  each 
other  and  you  profane  the  holy  of  holies.  Home 


FAITH.  211 

goes.  Society  goes.  Government  goes.  Barbarism 
and  anarchy  take  possession  of  the  world. 

Now,  our  faith  in  one  another  and  our  faith  in  God 
are  bound  to  stand  or  fall,  together.  When  we  give 
up  our  confidence  in  the  Creator's  image,  we  are  far 
on  the  road  to  giving  up  our  confidence  in  the 
Creator  himself.  When  belief  in  the  Father  whom 
we  have  not  seen,  vanishes,  belief  in  the  brother 
whom  we  have  seen  is  doomed  to  destruction.  The 
German  atheist  very  consistently  recognized  this 
fact  when  he  declared  that  the  object  of  his  so-called 
science  was:  "To  destroy  all  ideals  and  to  show  that 
the  belief  in  God  is  a  fraud,  that  morality,  equality, 
freedom,  love  and  the  rights  of  man  are  lies." 

After  Professor  Clifford's  spasmodic  efforts  to 
write  God  with  a  little  g  and  humanity  with  a  capital 
H,  we  find  him  asserting  at  last  that  men  may  all  be 
made  "cut-throats  for  money." 

Then,  as  we  love  the  world,  let  faith  remain, — faith 
in  man,  faith  in  God. 

Transfer  the  thought,  next,  from  business,  home 
and  society,  to  science.  It  is  a  very  common  claim 
that  science  does  all  her  walking  by  sight,  none  by 
faith.  But  this  is  a  great  mistake.  Take  those  ma- 
terialistic philosophers,  who  scoff  most  loudly  at  the 
doctrine.  Said  Lionel  Beale,  as  president  of  the  Royal 
Microscopical  Society — "  It  would  indeed  be  difficult 
in  any  other  department  of  human  knowledge  to  find 
anything  to  equal  the  extravagance  of  the  hypotheses 
recently  advanced,  concerning  living  matter  and  its 
properties."  So  true  is  it,  that  the  worst  victims  of 
credulity  are  those  who  boast  that  they  have  ab- 
jured all  faith.  When  a  man  makes  a  great  parade 
of  skepticism,  you  may  expect  from  him  in  the 


212  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

next  breath  the  wildest  assumptions,  unsupported  by 
a  single  fact.  And  the  most  amusing  part  of  the 
performance  will  be  his  perfect  ignorance  of  the 
spectacle  which  he  is  exhibiting.  Just  in  proportion 
as  genuine  faith  is  driven  out,  in  comes  its  counter- 
feit, credulity.  The  most  preposterous  things  that 
we  are  coolly  asked  to  accept,  are  the  speculations 
of  those  who  are  intolerant  of  beliefs  which  have 
been  cherished  since  the  dawn  of  history. 

This  shows  that  the  characteristic  in  question  is 
imbedded  in  the  human  constitution  so  deeply  that 
you  can  not  get  rid  of  the  former  without  destroying 
the  latter.  It  is  one  of  the  few  things  that  stay  for- 
ever. The  wisest  science,  that  which  has  brought 
most  abundant  blessing  to  mankind,  has  always  rev- 
erently and  joyfully  accepted  this  principle,  and 
made  it  the  source  of  inspiration  to  effort. 

The  astronomer's  telescope  pointing  heavenward 
to  find  the  undiscovered  star  which  must  be  there,  has 
always  been  one  of  faith's  most  impressive  witnesses. 
Were  it  not  for  his  unfailing  trust  in  the  supremacy 
of  constant  laws,  amid  a  thousand  wonderful  trans- 
formations, the  chemist  would  abandon  his  researches 
and  quit  the  laboratory. 

In  short,  not  one  of  the  inductive  sciences  is  pos- 
sible, except  as  faith  abideth. 

This  principle  is  also  most  beneficent  in  literature. 
The  novelists  and  the  poets  of  largest  jfaith  have  given 
the  world  the  wholesomest  food  and  the  sweetest 
benediction.  I  am  speaking  now  with  the  freer 
sense,  not  insisting  upon  the  creeds  and  dogmas  of 
any  church  or  churches.  George  Eliot  has  less  in- 
fluence than  she  had  a  few  years  ago.  Why?  Be- 
cause of  that  strain  of  unfaith  which  comes  up  as  an 


FAITH. 


213 


undertone  from  whatever  she  wrote.  It  depresses. 
People  say:  this  is  all  strangely  fascinating,  but 
there  is  that  about  it  which  leaves  us  with  a  sense  of 
hopelessness.  It  is  beauty,  but  it  is  hectic  beauty. 
Give  us  something  more  robust.  Lungs  that  take  in 
plenty  of  oxygen,  and  blow  disease  out  of  the  blood, 
and  make  cheeks  plump  and  rosy,  and  voice  exult- 
ant with  faith,  and  an  eye  that  brightens  toward  the 
invisible! 

That  other  woman,  who  not  long  ago,  was  trying 
to  roll  back  the  stone  to  the  door  of  the  sepulchre 
of  Christ,  and  to  seal  it  fast  with  the  stamp  of  her 
genius,  could  do  nothing  more  than  win  a  year 
of  notoriety  by  such  profanation  of  the  tomb  of 
Him  who  is  risen. 

The  seer  who  believeth  all  things,  sings  the  song 
that  wins  the  world's  heart,  and  insures  immortality. 
Listen  to  two  representative  voices  from  modern 
poetry: 

"  The  sea  of  faith 

Was  once,  too,  at  the  full,  and  round  earth's  shore 
Lay  like  the  folds  of  a  bright  girdle  furled. 
But  now  I  only  hear 

Its  melancholy,  long,  withdrawing  roar, 
Retreating  to  the  breath 

Of  the  night  wind,  down  the  vast  edges  drear, 
And  naked  shingles  of  the  world." 

This  wail   of  unbelief  is  prophetic  of  Matthew 
Arnold's  waning  fame.     *     *     * 

"  If  eVr  when  faith  had  fallen  asleep, 
1  heard  a  voice,  BELIEVE  NO  MORE! 
And  heard  an  ever  breaking  shore 
That  tumbled  in  the  Godless  deep, 
A  warmth  within  the  breast  would  melt 
The  freezing  season's  colder  part; 


214  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

And,  like  a  man  in  wrath,  the  heart 
Stood  up,  and  answered,  I  HAVE  FELT." 

This  undaunted  strain  will  give  Tennyson  a  hear- 
ing in  the  millennium. 

Still  it  is  the  fashion,  now-a-days,  in  some  literary 
circles,  to  canonize  Thomas,  the  doubting  apostle, 
to  set  him  up  as  the  patron  saint,  in  the  temple  of 
mind.  But  who  would  ever  have  heard  of  Thomas, 
had  it  not  been  for  his  associates,  the  heroes  of  the 
faith,  who  have  brought  him  along  down  the  ages  in 
their  company? 

It  is  a  bad  blunder  to  suppose  that  doubt  is  the 
trade-mark  of  genius.  I  was  sorry  to  hear,  not  long 
ago,  concerning  an  able  young  man,  that  he  had 
been  captivated  by  this  foolish  notion;  that  he  was 
a  pronounced  agnostic;  that  he  took  special  pride 
in  the  fact;  that  he  was  training  himself  to  speak  of 
faith  with  the  most  studied  contempt,  and  to  make 
doubt  his  guiding  star  for  the  future.  As  if  faith 
were  not 

"  The  master-light  of  all  our  seeing." 

It  would  do  no  good  for  a  minister  to  remonstrate 
with  that  young  man;  for  the  latter  would  take  the 
words  as  only  so  much  shop  talk.  But,  from  his 
own  standpoint,  he  ought  to  give  weight  to  the  re- 
gretful testimony  of  Niebuhr,  the  great  apostle  of 
modern  destructive  criticism;  who,  in  his  maturer 
years,  deplored  the  skeptical  spirit  which  he  had 
cultivated  until  it  had  become  a  second  nature;  and 
who  declared  that  it  should  be  his  first  object  to 
train  his  son  to  faith,  as  the  one  thing  constant. 

Yet,  in  deploring  a  pert,  flippant,  conceited  affec- 
tation of  skepticism,  we  should  not  lose  our  sympa- 
thy with  those  whose  doubts  cost  them  the  deepest 


FAITH.  215 

anguish  of  spirit.  We  may  agree  with  such  a  sufferer 
that  "God"  is  a  great  word.  He  who  feels  and  under- 
stands that,  will  judge  more  mildly  and  justly  of  those 
who  confess  that  they  dare  not  say  that  they  believe 
in  God.  There  are  moments  in  our  life  when  those 
who  seek  most  earnestly  after  God,  think  they  are 
forsaken  of  God;  when  they  hardly  venture  to  ask 
themselves:  Do  I  believe  a  God,  or  do  I  not? 
Let  them  not  despair,  and  let  us  not  judge  harshly 
of  them.  Their  despair  may  be  better  than  many 
so-called  creeds. 

Still,  while  we  look  upon  such  men  with  respect  for 
their  sincerity,  we  regard  them  with  more  compas- 
sion than  admiration.  The  combination  of  spiritual 
greatness  and  spiritual  weakness  excites  the  pro- 
foundest  pity.  Those  who  exhaust  themselves  thus, 
in  their  own  internal  conflicts,  have  little  strength 
left  to  help  their  fellow  men;  few  words  of  cheer 
fora  "creation  thatgroaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain." 
Contrast  the  depression  when  you  hear  such  a  con- 
fession of  semi-despair,  and  the  exhilaration  when 
you  listen  to  Paul's  description  of  the  victories  of 
faith,  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Hebrews. 

Unbelief  is  pulpy,  flabby,  nerveless.  Belief  is 
muscular.  It  grips.  It  grasps.  It  throbs  with  mo- 
mentum. It  rolls  the  tides. 

Skepticism  lacks  esprit  de  corps.  She  talks  grand- 
iloquently; but  she  rears  no  temples  in  honor  of  her 
apostles. 

Lick,  the  California  millionaire,  wanted  to  build 
a  splendid  monument  to  Tom  Paine,  but  far-seeing 
friends  persuaded  him,  that,  if  he  would  immortalize 
himself,  he  must  lay  his  foundations,  not  on  the 
shifting  sands  of  infidelity,  but  on  the  bed-rock  of 


2l6  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

faith.  And  so  that  money  has  gone  to  establish  an 
astronomical  observatory,  and  to  set  up  the  largest 
telescope  in  the  world,  that  the  heavens  may  more 
abundantly  declare  the  glory  of  that  very  God  whom 
silly  Tom  Paine  thought  to  dethrone. 

FAITH    ABIDETH. 

Faith  is  the  radical  principle  in  Christianity.  Re- 
ligious life  begins  in  it,  and  is  impossible  without 
it.  Like  the  root  of  the  tree,  it  works  in  the  dark- 
ness and  deals  with  the  invisible.  It  is  as  prepos- 
terous to  claim  that  you  must  see  how  faith  rears  and 
sustains  character,  as  it  would  be  to  claim  that  you 
must  see  how  the  roots  rear  and  sustain  the  elm 
yonder. 

Moreover  faith  works  silently.  •  Do  not  expect  to 
hear  it.  As  wisely  might  you  go  to  the  foot  of  the 
oak  and  put  your  ear  to  the  ground,  to  ascertain 
what  was  going  on  below  the  surface.  All  is  still  as 
ghost-land;  and  yet  there  are  a  thousand  literal  sap- 
pers and  miners  busy  pushing  out  in  every  direction; 
a  thousand  fibrous  rootlets,  greedily  honey-combing 
the  earth  for  hidden  sweets,  that  with  them  they  may 
refresh  the  monarch  of  the  forest. 

Now,  whenever  you  look  upon  a  grand  Christian 
you  may  know  that  his  soul  is  fed,  just  as  that  oak 
is  fed,  from  faith's  secret  laboratory.  Faith,  by  a 
sort  of  divine  instinct,  seizes  and  appropriates  what 
she  wants  most,  what  will  give  richest  life.  Bury 
some  bones  on  one  side  of  a  grape-vine,  and  go  there 
two  or  three  years  afterward,  and  you  will  find  the 
roots  on  that  side  densely  matted,  round  and  sleek; 
those  on  the  other  side  few,  lean  and  shriveled. 
Faith,  blind  and  dumb,  keeps  groping  around  until 


FAITH. 


2I7 


it  touches  what  suits  it  necessities,  and  then  you  can 
scarcely  tear  it  from  its  feast. 

But  suppose  that  instead  of  bones,  you  bury  a 
block  of  granite.  The  roots  of  your  vine  can  get 
no  nourishment  from  that;  still  they  turn  it  to  ac- 
count. They  feel  their  way  around  and  encompass 
it  with  network,  and  cling  to  it  with  such  tenacity 
that  a  giant  could  not  pull  up  the  vine.  Give  faith 
a  stone  instead  of  bread,  and  it  will  utilize  the  stone. 
There  are  some  hard  experiences  which  the  Christian 
can  not  draw  much  life  from,  but  faith  clasps  them 
round,  down  in  the  darkness,  and  so  they  help  the 
man  to  stand  the  storm;  they  hold  him  steady  when 
the  hurricane  sweeps  by. 

The  same  lesson  comes  directly  from  human  life. 
Here  is  a  boy  that  never  has  a  day-dream,  never 
sees  anything  which  is  not  painted  on  the  retina. 
Give  him  Aladdin's  lamp  and  he  would  sell  it  to  the 
highest  bidder.  You  can  not  make  him  believe  in 
what  he  can  not  see  with  his  eyes,  and  touch  with 
his  hands.  Talk  to  him  of  things  that  lie  out  far- 
ther, up  higher,  and  you  plunge  him  into  hopeless 
bewilderment.  But  here  is  another  child  who  will 
sit  upon  you  knee  by  the  hour,  in  open-eyed  won- 
der, drinking  in  whatever  you  tell  him.  Stretch  your 
imagination  as  you  may,  nothing  is  too  marvelous 
for  him  to  believe.  Fairy-land  is  his  home.  Shin- 
ing possibilities  ever  beckon  him  on.  Nature's 
voices  speak  to  him  out  of  space.  Solitude  is 
thronged  for  him  with  ten  thousand  friendly  forms. 
He  feels,  though  he  may  not  be  able  to  word  them, 

"  Those  obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 
Fallings  from  us,  vanishings: 


2l8  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Blank  misgivings  of  a  creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized." 

This  is  the  one,  that,  by  and  by,  will  write  the 
songs  of  the  nation,  or  be  to  it  prophet,  or  priest, 
or  king.  The  first  child  is  the  type  of  the  skeptic. 
The  second  child  is  the  type  of  the  believer.  He 
only  who  listens  in  the  spirit  of  the  latter  to 
the  revelations  of  God,  can  become  great  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven. 

Some  periods  of  history  are  characterized  by  un- 
belief; others  by  belief.  "We  shall  go  down  into 
the  black  valley,  where  we  shall  hear  no  more  hal- 
lelujahs." Thus  was  voiced  the  despair  of  the  Dark 
Ages. 

Let  us  climb  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  where 
under  the  open  heaven,  we  may  talk  with  Moses, 
and  Elias,  and  the  Son  of  God,  is  the  exultant  cry, 
already  half-articulate  upon  the  lips  of  the  oncom- 
ing twentieth  century.  That  century  is  your  cen- 
tury, young  ladies  and  gentlemen.  Anticipate  its 
spirit.  Unbelief  is  transient.  Belief  is  permanent. 
Skepticism  ends  in  confusion  of  face  and  undying 
shame.  But  faith  abideth,  now  and  forever. 

Yes,  now,  as  well  as  forever.  Put  emphasis  there. 
The  tense  is  present.  Do  not  let  the  doctrine  go 
ballooning  away  among  the  stars.  Tie  the  thought 
down  to  this  lower  sphere;  assert  the  continuity  be- 
tween the  earthly  life  and  the  heavenly.  Paul  was 
often  caught  up  into  the  seventh  heaven  by  his  fiery 
fancy;  but  he  never  lost  sight  of  this  world,  and  of 
the  relation  of  time  to  eternity.  Listen: 

"  By  faith,  Abraham,  when  he  was  called  to  go 
out  into  a  place  which  he  should  afterward  receive  for 


FAITH. 


219 


an  inheritance,  obeyed.  And  he  went  out,  not  know- 
ing whither  he  went" 

That  was  all  very  human.  There  is  in  it  a  common 
every-day,  worldly  sound,  which  comes  home  to  your 
heart  and  to  mine.  The  old  worthy  may  have  had 
some  passing  glimpse  of  a  New  Jerusalem,  which 
should  descend  out  of  heaven,  by  and  by,  across  his 
path;  but  that  which  mainly  filled  the  horizon  of 
anticipation  was  an  earthly  Canaan,  that  lay  some- 
where out  there  in  the  unknown.  "  He  went,  not 
knowing  whither  he  went;"  yes,  but  the  faith  prin- 
ciple, that  which  God  puts  into  the  soul  "to  abide," 
kept  saying:  Forward  !  Place  !  Inheritance  !  Every 
fine  fellow  who  has  set  his  heart  upon  the  noblest 
success,  takes  the  meaning  and,  on  the  instant, 
across  the  centuries,  recognizes  his  kinship  with 
Abraham. 

Garfield  knew  not,  and  yet  did  know,  whither  he 
went,  when  he  opened  the  academy  door  in  Chester 
that  morning,  in  the  fall  of  '49,  with  only  a  sixpence 
in  his  pocket.  And  when,  the  next  day  at  church, 
that  sixpence  went  into  the  contribution  plate,  Faith 
was  there.  And  as,  at  odd  hours  and  on  Saturdays, 
he  looked  up  jobs  of  carpentering,  Faith  fol- 
lowed him  in  the  quest.  And,  as  he  boarded  him- 
self on  thirty-one  cents  a  week,  Faith  abode  with 
him,  making  that  coarse  fare  sweet.  And  then,  at 
the  end  of  the  term,  Faith  pointed  to  the  sixpence, 
and  lo  !  it  had  turned  to  three  silver  dollars,  as  some 
solid  "substance  of  things  hoped  for." 

The  old  story  makes  us  no  promise  of  a  Canaan, 
as  an  inheritance.  The  modern  story  is  not  the 
pledge  of  a  White  House  by  and  by.  But  Faith, 


220  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

"abideth"  still,  here,  now,  for  you  and  for  me,  as  we 
keep  going  out  we  know  not  whither.  Therefore, 
trustfully,  lovingly  and  enthusiastically,  once  more 
we  commit  our  way  unto  thee,  O  Lord! 


"  KEEP   THIS    MAN." 
« 

"Thy  servant  went  out  into  the  midst  of  the  battle:  and  be- 
hold a  man  turned  aside,  and  brought  a  man  unto  me,  and  said: 
keep  this  man;  if  by  any  means  he  be  missing,  then  shall  thy 
life  be  for  his  life,  or  else  thou  shalt  pay  a  talent  of  silver. 
And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was  gone." — 
I  Kings  xx  :  39,  40. 

The  context  has  been  read  in  your  hearing.  The 
narrative  teaches  the  general  truth,  that,  however 
repugnant  to  our  feelings,  the  duty  which  God  re- 
quires of  us  must  be  performed. 

In  harmony  with  this  universal  doctrine,  the  para- 
ble contained  in  the  text  inculcates  a  more  specific 
lesson,  which  shall  be  our  study  this  morning.  The 
view  dissolves.  Instead  of  the  plains  of  Aphek, 
where  the  battle  was  fought  between  the  host  of 
Syria  and  the  children  of  Israel,  appear  the  peaceful 
scenes  amid  which  we  are  dwelling.  Instead  of  a 
stranger  bringing  us  a  captive  for  punishment,  comes 
our  best  friend,  committing  to  our  care  an  acquaint- 
ance, whom  we  are  bidden  to  shield  from  eternal 
harm.  This  acquaintance  we  are  commanded  to 
to  keep  in  safety,  under  grievous  penalty,  in  case  of 
failure.  How  are  we  discharging  our  sacred  trust? 
Keep  this  man  safe.  But  is  he  not  a  free  agent?  Yes. 
Is  he  not  accountable  for  himself?  Yes.  Is  not 
his  destiny  in  his  own  hands?  Yes.  Can  he 
not  thwart  all  my  efforts?  Yes.  Have  I  over  him 
any  power  of  moral  compulsion?  Not  absolutely, 
and  yet  the  command  is  absolute,  KEEP  THIS  MAN 
SAFE.  You  are  never  at  liberty  to  relax  your  watch- 


222  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

fulness  over  him.  When  he  shows  signs  of  solici- 
tude, strive  to  deepen  that  anxiety.  Should  he  be 
stolid  and  indifferent,  with  loving  patience  set  before 
him  his  danger.  If  he  grows  reckless  and  defiant, 
cast  yourself  between  him  and  self-destruction. 
Study  every  changing  mood,  adapt  yourself  to  varied 
situations,  convince  him  that  nothing  this  side  of 
death  shall  diminish  your  vigilance,  and  that,  if  he 
will  rush  to  ruin,  it  shall  be  by  trampling  under  feet 
your  counsels,  your  warnings,  your  tearful  entreaties. 
Such  devotion  is  the  nearest  possible  approach  to 
compulsion.  It  often  brings  salvation.  When  it 
fails,  you  are  guiltless.  How  few  of  us  thus  keep 
our  brother !  *  *  This  man  is  in  danger  from  him- 
self. He  has  appetites  and  passions,  which  conspire 
for  his  destruction.  He  may  be  ignorant  of  his  peril. 
He  needs  some  one  to  make  him  a  faithful  study, 
and  then  to  reveal  him  to  himself,  and  to 
show  him  in  loving  confidence  the  maelstrom 
whose  outer  circle  he  has  entered.  The  case 
demands  human  tact,  and  wisdom  from  above, 
in  rare  combination.  A  minister  never  faces  an  au- 
dience like  this,  without  seeing  some  countenance 
which  starts  the  question:  who  will  save  that  man 
from  himself?  The  class-mate,  or  the  room-mate, 
or  the  business  associate,  or  the  nearest  neighbor  is 
the  one  who  most  clearly  understands  the  situation, 
and  who  best  commands  the  avenues  of  approach. 
Will  he  have  the  moral  courage  to  do  his  duty? 
Will  he  dare  to  say  to  the  imperiled  soul,  "  My  dear 
sir,  you  are  your  own  worst  enemy  in  disguise.  Your 
carnal  desires  obscure  your  mental  vision  and  en- 
feeble your  will.  You  are  committing  moral  suicide. 
STOP." 


"KEEP   THIS  MAN."  2  2  3 

Or,  the  man  may  be  in  danger  front  others.  In 
good  company,  or,  even  if  left  to  himself,  he  would 
be  true  to  his  better  nature,  at  least  he  would  not  fall 
into  outrageous  sins.  But  his  love  for  society,  in  it- 
self commendable,  puts  him  into  the  power  of  his  as- 
sociates. They  hurry  him  from  transgression  to 
transgression,  without  giving  him  time  to  rally  for 
resistance.  How  quickly  badness  recognizes  its  nat- 
ural victim,  and  how  swifty  it  rushes  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  its  purpose!  Save  this  man  from  the 
foes  who  wear  the  garb  of  friendship.  It  is  often 
harder  to  warn  one  against  companions,  than  it  is  to 
warn  him  against  himself.  He  will  attribute  your 
course  to  jealousy  of  their  influence,  and  cling  to 
them  the  closer.  You  shrink  from  this  charge  of  un- 
dermining others.  You  feel  that  you  can  scarcely 
escape  the  stigma  of  meanness.  It  takes  a  big  heart, 
to  forget  all  this,  to  remember  only  the  peril  of  your 
brother,  and  to  thrust  yourself  bravely  between  him 
and  those  who  are  leading  him  to  ruin. 

But  again,  it  is  not  sufficient,  in  such  a  case,  to 
break  up  old  associations.  To  keep  this  man  safe, 
you  must  fortify  him  round  about  with  good  com- 
panionship. He  is  weak.  It  is  not  his  nature,  to 
make  his  own  standard,  and  conform  to  its  require- 
ments. He  borrows  his  moral  ideals,  and  looks  to 
others  for  help  in  their  realization.  In  impatience 
and  contempt,  you  want  to  say:  "Now  that  he  has 
been  delivered  from  vicious  surroundings,  let  him 
henceforth  assert  his  independence,  if  he  will  not  do 
that,  he  is  not  worth  saving.  But,  did  you  ever  re- 
flect how  few  would  be  saved,  if  that  principle  were 
made  universal?  Would  any  of  us  dare  to  say: 
"Take  away  religious  environment,  remove  the  helps 


224  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

to  righteousness  on  every  side;  break  up  and  scatter 
the  Christian  circle  in  the  center  of  which  I  stand,. 
I  am  abundantly  able  to  work  out  my  own  salva- 
tion?" May  God  deliver  us  from  such  fool-hardi- 
ness! Let  no  one  despise  these  blessed  influences 
which  inspire  us  toward  the  attainment  of  holiness. 
The  odds  are  fearfully  against  any  man  who  is  left 
standing  alone.  When  God  says:  "save  this  man." 
he  means,  "so  encompass  him  with  all  forms  of  lov- 
ing watchfulness,  that  it  shall  be  well  nigh  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  break  through  them,  and  return  to 
his  old  surroundings." 

BUT,  IF  HE  BE  MISSING?  "Then  shall  thy  life  be 
for  his  life,  or  else  thou  shalt  pay  a  talent  of  silver." 
Through  the  letter,  read  the  spirit  of  the  text.  We 
are  not  taught,  either  here,  or  elsewhere  in  the  Word  of 
God,  that  if  we  fail  in  duty  to  our  brother,  our  life 
shall  be  forfeited  with  his,  but  we  are  threatened 
with  serious  loss.  Failure  to  discharge  the  lesser 
trusts  here,  will  debar  us  from  the  larger  trusts  of 
the  hereafter.  The  same  principle  works  in  earthly 
and  in  heavenly  affairs.  We  cannot  escape  the  law 
of  probation,  in  this  world,  or  in  any  other  world^ 
In  every  calling,  there  is  going  on  a  process  of  se- 
lection. Those  who  are  found  faithful  in  lower  posi- 
tions are  bidden  to  go  up  higher.  Those  who  are 
recreant  to  duty,  are  made  to  give  way  to  such  as 
have  borne  the  tests  of  inferior  station.  Accident, 
or  favoritism,  may  put  a  man  into  the  wrong  place, 
and  may  keep  him  there  awhile,  but  time  will  finally 
rectify  the  blunder.  Nepotism  is  too  expensive,  to 
become  very  prevalent  amid"  the  fierce  competitions 
of  modern  life.  It  supports,  here  and  there,  an  or- 
namental figure-head,  but  every  business  is  obliged 


"KEEP   THIS  MAN." 


225 


to  sift,  and  sort,  and  grade,  and  pay,  according  to 
proved  efficiency  and  the  natural  expectations  thus 
excited. 

Tacitus  crushes  the  crown  of  one  of  the  Roman 
emperors  with  a  single  blow,  when  he  exclaims 
"capax  imperii,  nisi  imperasset."  A  man  who  would 
always  have  been  thought  fit  for  the  throne,  if  only 
he  had  never  ascended  the  throne!  Such  a  stunning 
verdict  is  just,  now  and  then,  in  the  high  places  of 
responsibility  in  all  vocations,  but  it  is  the  rarity  of  the 
instances  which  makes  them  so  conspicuous.  The 
appointing  power  in  great  corporations  is  too  care- 
ful of  its  capital,  to  risk  it,  without  most  searching 
investigation  into  the  capacity  and  fidelity  of  those 
who  are  to  have  its  management.  You  have  often 
heard  it  said,  that  the  affairs  of  our  railroads  are 
chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  nephews,  cousins  and 
brothers-in-law  of  the  directors.  But,  usually,  the  di- 
rectors are  the  largest  stockholders,  and  stockhold- 
ers are  not  very  likely  to  risk  their  own  stock,  in  the 
hands  of  their  incompetent  kinsfolk,  for  relation- 
ship's sake.  Examine  the  pay-rolls  of  our  best  rail- 
ways, and  you  will  not  find  them  filled  with  the 
names  of  incompetents,  put  there  and  kept  there,  on 
account  of  their  blood.  The  places  of  responsibility 
are  occupied  by  those  who  have  been  tried,  and 
never  found  wanting. 

I  was  talking  about  this  one  day  with  a  railroad 
superintendent,  who  began  as  a  brakeman.  He 
scouted  the  notion  that  the  managers  of  such  corpo- 
rations considered  it  their  main  business  to  support  a 
retinue  of  relatives  in  the  offices  of  the  line.  He 
declared  that  from  the  first  time  he  sprang  to  his 
post,  on  the  whistle  of  "down  brakes,"  he  had  found 


226  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

somebody  on  the  lookout,  to  call  him  up  higher,  as 
fast  as  he  was  fit  to  go.  The  people  who  talk  loudest 
about  nepotism  in  business  are  usually  those  who 
have  lost  situations  through  incapacity  or  negligence. 
Depend  upon  it  that  the  capital  invested  in  the 
gigantic  enterprises  of  manufactures,  trade,  trans- 
portation and  commerce  is  inquiring  for  brains,  and 
not  for  pedigrees.  A  business  syndicate  which  should 
make  the  care  of  poor  relations  its  first  law  must 
presently  find  itself  in  the  hands  of  a  receiver.  In 
all  this  there  is  no  hardness  of  heart.  It  is  the  only 
way  to  keep  the  world  from  universal  bankruptcy. 
Thus  is  made  the  money  to  take  care  of  the  various 
poor  relations  that  we  encounter  everywhere. 

Now  Christ  teaches,  both  by  parable  and  directly, 
that  God  recognizes  the  same  principle  in  spiritual 
affairs.  He  carries  on  the  enterprises  of  His  king- 
dom through  human  agents,  and  conditions  promo- 
tion on  faithfulness  to  trust.  To  him  that  hath  is 
given.  From  him  that  hath  not  is  taken  that  which  he 
seemeth  to  have.  He  that  is  faithful  over  a  few 
things  is  made  ruler  over  many  things.  The  analogy 
between  the  method  of  worldly  business  and  the 
method  of  religious  business  usually  holds  good  even 
in  the  present  life.  God  picks  his  men  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  his  purposes,  just  as  would  any 
wise  human  manager  of  complicated  interests. 
Favoritism  and  spiritual  good  luck  have  no  part  in 
the  administration  of  these  grand  affairs.  He  who 
keeps  his  brother,  finds  brethren  multiplying,  for  him 
to  keep.  He  who  does  not  keep  his  brother,  loses 
further  opportunity. 

This  law  of  time  passes  over  and  becomes  the  law 
of  eternity.  Its  importance  there  is  measured  by  the 


"KEEP    THIS  MAN."  22  J 

comparative  length  of  time  and  eternity.  The  lan- 
guage of  Revelation  concerning  the  employments  of 
the  future  life  is  highly  figurative. 

We  may  speculate  as  to  their  nature,  but  all  that  is 
clearly  made  known  is,  that  there  will  be  blessed 
activities,  and  that  men  will  be  assigned  their  re- 
spective parts  according  to  fitness  made  manifest  during 
mortal  probation.  He  who  will  not  keep  his  brother 
safe  on  earth  has  proved  his  unworthiness  of  any  of 
the  larger  trusts  of  heaven,  of  whatsoever  sort  they 
be.  There  is  a  wide-spread  and  mischievous  notion 
that  if  we  can  only  gain  entrance  to  the  abodes  of 
bliss  it  is  of  no  special  importance  in  what  condition 
we  secure  admission.  Doubtless,  the  chief  question 
is,  acceptance  or  rejection.  That  is  the  issue  which 
must,  in  every  case,  be  made  first  and  settled  first. 

But,  after  that  point  is  decided,  which  is  presumed 
in  the  present  discussion,  it  concerns  us  deeply  to 
inquire  what  will  be  the  comparative  loss  from  relig- 
ious negligence,  and  the  comparative  gain  from  re- 
ligious faithfulness.  In  this  view,  greatly  to  be  de- 
plored is  any  present  remissness  in  duty,  which,  even 
in  a  slight  degree,  contracts  the  horizon  of  oppor- 
tunity for  the  endless  ages.  This  should  not  excite 
any  suspicion  of  arbitrariness  on  the  part  of  God. 
We  know  that  he  will  confide  to  our  keeping  forever 
all  that  we  have  shown  that  we  can  be  trusted  with. 
Nothing  less  and  nothing  more  would  precisely  sat- 
isfy the  moral  sense  of  mankind.  When  we  read 
that  they  who  turn  many  to  righteousness  shall 
shine  as  the  stars  in  the  brightness  of  the  firmament, 
we  say,  that  is  as  it  should  be.  But,  if  it  were  added, 
he  that  did  not  keep  his  brother  on  earth,  shall  also 


228  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

shine  as  brightly,  we  should  say  just  as  decidedly, 
that  would  not  be  as  it  should  be. 

Still,  objects  some  one,  though  I  admit  that  one 
star  should  differ  from  another  star  in  glory,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  consciousness  of  opportunity 
lost  forever  must  fill  one  with  unavailing  regret  and 
thus  mar  his  happiness  in  heaven.  The  objection  is 
natural  and  plausible.  But,  upon  inspection,  the 
difficulty  becomes  insignificant.  As  a  young  man, 
you  had  an  opportunity  to  invest  a  little  money  in 
Minneapolis  or  Chicago.  If  you  had  only  done  so 
you  might  be  to-day  a  millionaire.  Your  resources 
for  honor,  usefulness  and  happiness  would  be  vastly 
increased,  still  that  fact  does  not  disturb  your  seren- 
ity, does  not  becloud  life  with  unavailing  regret. 
From  the  other  life  one  may  look  back  to  the  scenes 
of  time;  he  may  clearly  discern  neglected  oppor- 
tunities, he  may  know  that  through  letting  them 
slip  he  has  lost  many  chances  for  heavenly  prefer- 
ment, and  still  suffer  no  positive  unhappiness  from 
the  situation.  Moreover,  he  may  experience  enjoy- 
ment to  satisfaction,  in  the  comparatively  restricted 
sphere  to  which  he  has  limited  himself  by  his  own 
voluntary  course  during  probation.  Nevertheless, 
the  larger  orbit  would  have  been  preferable,  and  by 
unfaithfulness  in  the  lesser  trust,  the  man  has  brought 
upon  himself  serious  loss  for  eternity. 

Do  not  reply:  Revelation  assures  us  that  all  shall 
be  perfectly  happy  in  heaven,  therefore  it  makes  no 
practical  difference  whether  or  not  we  improve  every 
present  possibility. 

To  this  I  answer:  Suppose  that  you  now  contract 
your  moral  capacity,  and  that  God,  in  his  goodness, 
does  hereafter  fill  it  with  enjoyment,  would  that  be 


"KEEP   THIS  MAN"  22C) 

as  desirable,  as  if  you  should  here  enlarge  that 
capacity  to  the  utmost,  and  then  God  should  make 
it  brim  over  with  blessedness  forever? 

It  is  our  duty  to  accept  with  cheerfulness  our 
natural  endowments,  whether  they  are  great  or 
small.  A  humble  satellite  may  be  as  perfect  as  the 
central  sun.  But,  when  the  choice  is  offered  of  be- 
ing a  star  of  inferior  magnitude  or  a  star  of  superior 
magnitude  in  the  moral  firmament,  a  most  holy  am- 
bition responds:  give  me  the  larger  body  and  the 
ampler  space,  world  without  end! 

How,  then,  is  it  that  we  neglect  the  condition 
essential  to  the  realization  of  that  holy  ambition? 
We  have  seen  that  that  invariable  condition  is  faith- 
fulness to  our  trust  during  earthly  probation.  Keep 
this  man!  Our  failure  is  the  failure  to  obey  that 
plain  injunction.  How  is  it  that  we  let  the  man  es- 
cape from  our  watch  and  care?  "And  as  thy  servant 
was  busy  here  and  there,  he  was  gone!'  That  last 
part  of  the  text  reveals  the  secret.  "As  I  was  busy, 
here  and  there."  That  business  is  legitimate:  it 
must  have  attention.  Still  it  becomes  so  all-absorb- 
ing, it  keeps  us  running  here  and  there  so  constantly, 
that  we  forget  to  look  after  the  man  committed  to 
our  keeping,  and,  suddenly,  we  find  that  he  is  gone, 
we  know  not  whither.  It  was  for  this  reason,  that 
Christ  warned  us  so  earnestly  against  "THE  CARES  OF 
THIS  LIFE." 

Our  criminal  negligence  is  not  chiefly  due  to  our 
indulgence  in  forbidden  gratifications,  but  to  our  in- 
tense devotion  to  commendable  pursuits.  If  you 
are  a  clerk,  faithfulness  to  your  employer  requires 
that  thought  and  energy  shall  be  given  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  his  interests.  You  fall  into  the  habit 


230  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

of  saying  to  yourself,  these  other  subordinates  be- 
hind the  counter  must  look  after  themselves.  My 
time  and  attention  are  all  due  to  the  establishment. 
I  have  no  right  to  use  for  the  benefit  of  my  associ- 
ates what  belongs  to  the  house.  And  so,  while  you 
are  busy  here  and  there,  day  after  day,  the  clerk  at 
your  side,  for  whom  you  are  morally  responsible,  is 

GONE. 

If  you  are  a  student,  your  parents  rightly  expect 
that  the  prosecution  of  study  will  be  your  main  em- 
ployment. How  many  of  you  are  constantly  plead- 
ing this  fact,  and  letting  slip  some  of  life's  finest  op- 
portunities for  the  salvation  of  souls!  God  says  to 
every  one  "there  is  that  man,  that  class-mate,  that 
seat-mate,  that  room-mate,  that  associate,  KEEP  HIM 
SAFE."  You  may  not  be  guilty  of  a  single  sin  of 
commission,  you  may  merely  be  busy,  here  and  there 
about  things  in  themselves  highly  praiseworthy,  and, 
all  at  once,  be  startled  by  the  announcement:  "HE 
is  MISSING! — GONE  FOREVER!"  If  you  are  a  teacher, 
your  activities  ought  to  be  largely  devoted  te  the 
preparation  and  hearing  of  lessons.  But  there  is  a 
pupil  over  whom  you  have  more  influence  than  does 
any  other  member  of  the  faculty.  You  may  always 
enter  the  class-room  with  the  subject  of  the  day 
fully  mastered,  you  may  crowd  every  minute  of  the 
hour  with  rich  instruction,  you  may  keep  this  up 
from  September  to  June,  year  after  year,  and  still, 
when  it  is  too  late,  find  that,  while  you  have  been 
thus  busy,  here  and  there,  that  man  whom  God 
brought  unto  you  saying,  KEEP  HIM,— is  missing, 
GONE  FOREVER.  If  you  are  a  capitalist  giving  em- 
ployment to  few,  or  to  many,  paying  the  highest 
market  price  for  labor,  and  following  only  the  most 


•••KEEP  THIS  MAN: 


231 


honorable  methods  in  the  conduct  of  your  affairs,  so 
far  all  is  well.  But  there  is  a  workman  whom  God 
has  brought  to  you  saying:  KEEP  HIM.  What  is 
wanted  is  only  five  minutes  of  your  precious  time  to- 
morrow morning.  But  you  hurry  by.  You  are  so 
"busy,  here  and  there."  And,  to-morrow  night,  that 
man  will  be  missing,  GONE  FOREVER. 

If  you  are  in  authority,  so  that  you  say  to  one, 
come,  and  he  cometh,  and  to  another,  go,  and  he 
goeth,  and,  yet  you  are  careful  that  no  command 
shall  be  arbitrary  and  cruel,  that  is  well.  But  there 
is  a  subordinate,  who  is  having  a  desperate  fight  with 
the  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil.  God  has  put 
that  subordinate  there  for  you  to  KEEP.  A  smile 
and  an  encouraging  word,  once  in  a  while,  will  suf- 
fice. But  you  neglect  to  give  them,  through  absorp- 
tion in  what  seem  weightier  interests.  And,  while 
you  are  "busy,  here  and  there,"  he  is  missing,  GONE 
FOREVER. 

You  are  the  mistress  of  a  family.  You  are  devoted 
to  husband,  children  and  friends.  That  is  highly 
commendable.  But  there  is  your  maid-servant.  It 
is  not  your  duty  to  make  her  your  drawing-room  as- 
sociate. Still,  she  has,  in  common  with  your  own 
daughter,  social  desires  which  need  guidance  and  in- 
dulgence. Your  experience  and  position  qualify 
you  to  caution  her  of  danger,  and  to  direct  her  in 
the  choice  of  companions.  But  you  are  so  busy 
here  and  there.  *  *  *  Missing  !  A  vial  of 
laudanum,  and  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking! 

"  Mad  from  life's  history, 
Glad  to  death's  mystery; 
Swift  to  be  hurled 
Anywhere;  anywhere 
Out  of  the  world." 


232  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Oh  the  CARES  OF  THIS  LIFE  !  Who  shall  deliver 
us  from  their  blighting,  destroying  power  ! 

God  grant  that,  when  we  stand  before  him  for 
judgment,  and  are  called  to  account  for  the  one 
committed  to  us  with  the  injunction:  KEEP  HIM, 
HER,  SAFE,  we  may  not  be  compelled,  to  answer 
with  shame  and  confusion  of  face:  "  Lord,  while  I 
was  busy,  here  and  there,  HE,  SHE,  WAS  MISSING  ! 
GONE  FOREVER!" 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY. 

"  For  every  man  shall  bear  his  own  burden." — Galatians  vi:  5. 

The  second  verse  of  this  chapter  reads:  "  Bear 
ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfill  the  law  of 
Christ."  At  the  first  glance,  the  two  texts  seem  to 
embody  antagonistic  doctrines.  What  propriety  is 
there  in  telling  us  in  the  same  breath,  that  we  must 
bear  one  another's  burdens,  and  that  every  man 
must  bear  his  own  burden? 

There  is,  however,  no  opposition  between  the  two 
injunctions.  In  the  art  of  putting  things,  Paul  was 
a  master.  He  took  delight  in  startling  people  by 
apparent  contradictions,  that  he  might  arrest  atten- 
tion and  lead  them  to  think  for  themselves.  The 
writings  of  the  apostle  are  a  constant,  spiritual  irri- 
tant. He  did,  on  one  occasion,  put  Eutychus  to 
sleep  with  a  long  sermon,  but,  as  a  rule,  he  keeps 
up  such  a  steady  cross-fire  that  all  are  on  the  alert, 
wondering  where  and  whom  he  will  hit  next. 

Notice  his  skill  in  the  present  instance.  He  com- 
mences by  bidding  Christians  bear  your  burdens  for 
you,  and  then,  just  as  you  are  settling  down,  and  be- 
ginning to  regard  yourself  as  badly  abused,  because 
Christians  are  so  remiss  in  duty,  he  turns  upon  you, 
saying:  "None  of  that,  there  is  no  escape;  you  must 
bear  your  own  burden." 

Without  invalidating,  in  the  slightest  degree,  what 
he  calls  the  law  of  Jesus,  the  apostle  would  bring 
before  our  minds  very  distinctly  the  fact,  that  after 
believers  have  done  all  that  lies  in  their  power  for 


234  SEJRMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

one  another,  each  will  have  his  own  burden  to  bear, 
that  this,  also,  is  a  universal  law  under  the  govern- 
ment of  God. 

Let  us  try  to  look  this  idea  squarely  in  the  face, 
and,  if  possible,  to  ascertain  its  meaning.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  the  Creator's  design  that  every  human 
being  shall  have  a  burden  of  toil — that  work,  and 
work  only,  shall  create  value.  The  attempt  to  evade 
this  law  produces  many  of  our  financial  crashes. 
Much  of  the  business  of  Wall  Street  is  legitimate, 
and  highly  beneficial  to  the  world,  but  the  gamblers 
there  are  all  the  time  trying  to  get  something  for 
nothing  and,  every  now  and  then,  the  penalty  must 
come  in  the  form  of  wide-spread  ruin. 

The  same  vice  manifests  itself,  though  less  plainly, 
through  all  the  ranks  of  society.  Even  the  child  who, 
on  the  railroad  train,  buys  a  package  of  prize  candy, 
is  in  a  small  way  imitating  the  grain  swindler  in  Chi- 
cago, and  the  stock  swindler  in  New  York.  He 
stakes  twenty-five  cents,  hoping  to  find  a  dollar  in 
the  paper.  The  idea  is  to  get  seventy-five  cents 
that  do  not  belong  to  him,  and  do  belong  to  some- 
body else;  and  to  get  them  for  nothing.  It  is  at  this 
point  that  speculation  ceases  to  be  legitimate  busi- 
ness and  degenerates  into  gambling.  It  is  simply 
betting  on  chances.  There  is  no  exchange  of  values. 
As  soon  as  that  principle  is  lost  sight  of  in  men's 
dealings  with  one  another,  you  may  know  that  fraud, 
in  some  form,  is  lurking  thereabouts,  however  hard 
it  may  be  to  tell  precisely  where  it  is  hidden.  It  is 
perfectly  right  for  a  man  to  put  his  money  into 
stocks,  hoping  for  a  heavy  percentage  from  the  op- 
eration of  the  ordinary  laws  of  trade;  but  the  mo- 
ment that  he  begins  to  play  the  "bull,"  or  the  "bear,1" 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY.  235 

in  the  market,  in  order  to  create  fictitious  values  by 
falsehood,  or  to  depreciate  real  values  through 
fright,  his  proper  place  before  the  moral  law,  if  not 
before  the  civil  law,  is  in  the  penitentiary.  It  is  per- 
fectly right  for  a  man  to  put  his  money  into  grain, 
expecting  to  realize  largely  from  the  operation  of 
the  ordinary  laws  of  demand  and  supply;  but,  as 
soon  as  regular  transfers  cease,  and  he  merely  lays 
a  wager  as  to  what  the  price  of  wheat  will  be  on  a 
certain  day,  and  forms  combinations  to  secure  a 
"corner,"  he  sinks  morally,  so  far  as  that  transaction 
is  concerned,  to  the  level  of  the  ordinary  gambler  on 
a  Mississippi  steamboat.  It  is  perfectly  right  for  a 
man  to  put'  his  money  into  land,  if  he  thinks  that 
he  foresees  a  rapid  development  which  will  double 
or  quadruple  his  investment;  but,  if  by  circu- 
lating false  reports  and  exciting  groundless  expec- 
tations, he  gulls  the  purchaser,  that  moment  he 
crosses  the  line  which  separates  an  honest  man  from 
a  cheat. 

I  know  that  it  is  very  commonly  said  that  you 
cannot  distinguish  between  what  is  legitimate  and 
what  is  illegitimate  in  business,  but  this  is  not  an 
impossibility.  If  every  man  would  remember  that 
it  is  God's  law  that  he  must  pay  an  equivalent  for 
whatever  he  receives — an  equivalent  in  honest  hand- 
work, or  head-work,  or  money,  which  is  the  accum- 
ulation of  the  two — if  he  would  remember  this,  and 
then  never  try  to  get  something  for  nothing,  knav- 
ery would  disappear  from  this  world  with  astonish- 
ing rapidity.  Now,  if  you  search  for  the  root  of  all 
these  gigantic  forms  of  fraud,  you  will  find  it  in  the 
determination  to  be  free  from  God's  great  law  of 


236  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

labor,   of  equivalents,  of  something  for  something, 
instead  of  something  for  nothing. 

To  make  the  matter   personal,  let  us   not   confine 
attention  to  brokers'  offices,  and  grain  elevators,  and 
wild  lands  in  Dakota.     Are  not  you  and  I  guilty  of 
the  same  thing,  on  a  smaller  scale,  every  day?    Are 
we  not   forever  trying  to  shirk  work,   to   get  some- 
thing for  nothing  ?     It  is  at  this  point  that  the  text 
hits  us  all.     Here  is  one  of  the  burdens  which  God 
puts    upon    us    to  bear.     His  design  is   to  test   us, 
to    show   of    what   stuff  we  are  made,  to  ascertain 
whether  there  is  in  us  material  enough   for  him  to 
shape  into  heirs  of  immortality.     Look,  then,  upon 
the  burden  of  labor  as  God-appointed,  and  ask  his 
help  to  carry  it  cheerfully.     In  the  whole  circle  of 
my  acquaintances,  there  are  not  more  than  twenty 
persons  who  do  not  grumble  about  having  so  much 
to  do.     And  I  blush  to  say  that  I  can   not   claim  to 
be  one  of  the  twenty.     Is   it  not  a  weariness   to  the 
spirit,  to  listen  to  the  pitiful  cry  on  every  side:  "Oh, 
I  am  so  busy!  "     What   if  I    am?     I   ought   to  be. 
That  is  precisely  what  God  put   me  here   for.     And 
shame  upon  me,  if  I  have  not  the  grit  and  the  grace 
to    meet   his    requirement,    without   burdening  you 
with  my  complaints,  and  trying  to   make  you  and 
others  believe   that  I    am    the    hardest-worked    and 
poorest-paid  man  in  the  community.     If  I  am  ren- 
dering my  fellow-men  and  the   cause  of  Christ  such 
invaluable  services,  the  people  and  the   Master  will 
be  very  sure  to  find   it  out,  and  to   furnish  suitable 
compensation,  without  my  fretting  myself  and  worry- 
ing my  associates  with  my  Jeremiads.     That   is  my 
burden,  and  I  have  no  right  to  thrust  it  upon  others. 
We  look  upon  the   little  part   which  we  have  to 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY.  237 

play  in  this  world's  drama,  through  a  glass  which 
magnifies  a  thousand  diameters.  Consequently, 
that  part  seems  to  us  a  thousand  times  as  big 
as  it  does  to  those  around  us,  who  view  it  with  the 
naked  eye;  and  so  between  our  estimate  and  theirs 
the  contrast  is  laughable. 

Now,  if  we  will  quit  this  folly,  and  simply  take 
upon  us  the  burden  of  toil  which  God  has  appointed, 
and  carry  it  as  he  wants  it  carried,  we  can  bear  it 
cheerfully,  nay  joyfully,  to  the  end.  We  can 
fill  that  labor,  not  only  with  prayer,  but  also  with 
song.  We  can  make  it  all  worship,  from  Monday 
morning  until  Saturday  evening.  We  must  learn  to 
spend  less  time  and  energy  in  examining  the  packs 
of  others,  to  see  whether  we  are  not  carrying 
a  few  pounds  more  than  our  share.  You  can 
not  tell  how  heavy  my  load  is;  I  can  not  tell  how 
heavy  your  load  is.  God  only  knows.  But  of  this 
we  may  be  certain,  that  he  commands  every  one  of 
us  to  work  with  our  might.  If  we  have  been  doing 
too  much,  he  bids  us  do  less.  If  we  have  been  doing 
too  little,  he  bids  us  do  more.  This  is  wholly  a 
question  of  individual  accountability. 

When,  therefore,  we  come  to  view  the  subject 
aright,  we  shall  be  thankful  that  we  are  under  this 
universal  law  of  labor.  Without  it,  we  should  cease 
to  create  value  for  others,  and  in  ourselves.  What 
is  the  inhabitant  of  the  tropics  worth  to  the  world, 
or  in  himself,  as  he  sits  in  the  shade,  eating  the  ba- 
nana and  the  bread-fruit,  as  they  ripen  and  drop  from 
the  branches  above  his  head  ?  What  would  become 
of  human  progress,  of  Christianity  itself,  if  they 
were  confided  to  his  keeping?  In  character,  he  is 
nerveless,  pulpy,  like  the  fruits  that  he  lives  on. 


238  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

He  does  nothing  to  put  stamina  into  him,  and  to 
make  him  a  power  among  men.  It  is  in  the 
zones  where  .nature  is  less  bountiful,  where  men 
are  compelled  to  dig,  and  delve  and  sweat,  that 
those  forces  are  generated  which  carry  the  race 
onward  and  upward. 

Constituted  as  we  are,  with  this  bias  toward  indo- 
lence and  shiftlessness,  that  is  not  a  tyrannical  man- 
date, but  a  merciful  injunction,  which  declares  that 
"  Every  one  must  bear  his  own  burden."  We  are 
bidden  to  help  one  another  in  all  the  ways  which 
sweet  charity  dictates;  but,  when  that  has  been 
done,  the  voice  rings  out  loud  and  clear:  "Work! 
work!  Stand  up  under  your  load  like  a  man  !  " 
Thus  contribute  what  you  can  to  the  general  store, 
and  vindicate  your  right  to  the  title  of  sonship  be- 
fore God. 

Again!  We  are  called  upon  to  bear  a  burden  of 
trouble  and  suffering.  We  are  wont  to  complain  be- 
cause this  burden  is  so  unequal.  Yet  I  believe  that 
the  more  carefully  we  study  the  matter,  the  more 
equal  the  distribution  will  seem.  Take  anxiety 
about  our  ordinary  affairs.  There  is  the  hod-carrier 
in  the  street.  How  shall  he,  with  his  dollar  and  a 
half  a  day,  buy  bread  for  all  those  hungry  mouths, 
and  shoes  for  all  those  little  feet  at  home?  And  sup- 
pose he  falls  sick,  how  will  his  wife  be  able  to  man- 
age, and  where  shall  she  get  the  money  for  the  doc- 
tor's bills?  Why  can  he  not  rest  easy  on  these  ques- 
tions, like  the  man  he  sees  writing  at  the  office  win- 
dow yonder?  But,  at  that  very  moment,  he  at  the 
office  window  is  preyed  upon  by  things  that  harass 
him  just  as  fearfully.  How  shall  he  meet  his  en- 
gagements here?  How  can  he  quiet  clamor  there? 


PERSONAL    ACCOUNTABILITY.  239 

How  can  he  ever  clear  himself  from  the  meshes 
which  his  own  indiscretion  or  the  craft  of  others  has 
woven  around  him.  In  the  matter  of  anxiety  the 
hod-carrier  is  no  worse  off  than  the  capitalist. 

Here,  too,  is  the  poor  man  with  children  to  edu- 
cate. How  shall  this  great  end  be  accomplished?  It 
is  the  struggle  of  a  life-time;  but,  by  and  by,  that  girl 
develops  into  cultivated,  queenly  womanhood;  and 
that  boy  fights  his  way  up  to  heights  of  influence 
and  usefulness.  But  yonder  is  the  rich  man.  With 
him  the  question  is  not  how  to  get  money,  but  how 
to  keep  what  he  has  got  from  ruining  his  children. 
The  daughter  cares  for  nothing  but  Vanity  Fair,  and 
the  son  is  given  up  to  indolence  and  dissipation. 
The  two  go  out  into  life,  fitted  for  nothing  but 
squandering  their  inheritance.  Is  not  the  weight  of 
anxiety  as  heavy  on  the  rich  man  as  on  the  poor 
man? 

Walk  along  a  crowded  business  street,  now 
looking  in  at  the  doors,  and  now  watching  the  faces 
of  those  who  throng  the  sidewalk.  The  story  varies 
very  little.  Care  and  anxiety  are  about  equalized. 
It  is  hard  to  tell  which  carries  most,  the  banker,  the 
farmer,  or  the  chimney-sweep.  Each  has  laid  upon 
him  a  proportionate  burden.  The  sweep  has  his 
worries,  but  they  are  cooped  in  by  the  walls  of  the 
flues  which  he  cleans.  The  farmer  seems  to  lead  a 
freer  life,  but  you  must  remember  that,  as  the  boun- 
daries of  his  liberty  extend,  so  do  his  perplexities 
increase.  The  banker  appears  to  be  still  more  inde- 
pendent, but  notice  how  the  telegraph  lines  from  New 
York  and  London,  keep  his  nerves  in  a  constant 
quiver,  his  mind  in  a  feverish  fret.  Take  everything 
into  the  account,  and  these  ordinary  annoyances  and 


240  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

vexations  are  found  to  be  very  evenly  distributed. 

When  you  pass  on  to  the  province  of  sorrow,  the 
case  is  not  materially  changed.  There  are  excep- 
tions. We  often  speak  of  this  person  and  of  that 
person,  as  especially  afflicted.  But,  if  you  will  ex- 
tend your  scale  of  measurement,  and  study  the  his- 
tory of  families,  you  will  see  that,  in  the  long 
run,  the  proportion  of  suffering  to  each,  differs  little. 
It  is  the  same  old  history  of  sickness  and  dea,th, 
with  every  generation;  just  about  so  many  shrouds,  just 
about  so  many  coffins! 

Now,  there  are  three  ways  in  which  we  may  meet 
this  stubborn,  universal  fact: 

We  may  rebel  against  it.  We  may  fight  it  as  long 
as  we  live;  but  we  can  not  change  it.  The  struggle 
will  only  make  us  the  more  miserable. 

Or  we  may  submit  to  it  in  sullen  stoicism,  declar- 
ing that  it  is  useless  to  battle  against  fate,  and  that 
it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  bear  the  inevitable,  hero- 
ically. 

Or  we  may  recognize  the  merciful  hand  of  God's 
providence,  trying  to  lead  us  out  from  the  confusion 
and  distress  which  human  transgression  has  brought 
upon  earth,  into  those  serene  realms  of  resignation, 
faith  and  hope,  in  which  it  is  the  Christian's  privi- 
lege to  make  his  home. 

Let  us  now  ascend  to  a  more  elevated  and  expan- 
sive province  of  contemplation,  and  examine  the 
burden  of  personal  accountability  unto  Jehovah. 
That  idea  I  want  to  set  vibrating  in  every  breast 
here  this  morning.  God  and  /, — what  are  his  claims 
upon  me? 

God  lays  upon  you  the  burden  of  responsibility 
for  right  thinking.  By  right  thinking  is  not  meant 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY.  24! 

right  thinking  in  every  department  of  truth,  or  even 
in  every  department  of  theology,  but  concerning 
your  relation  to  him  through  Jesus  Christ. 

To  this  end,  he  would  have  you  cultivate  a  reverent 
affection  for  the  Bible,  as  the  depository  of  his  re- 
vealed will.  In  doing  this,  it  is  not  necessary  for  you 
to  suppose  that  there  is  truth  nowhere  else,  or  to  re- 
ject, as  false,  whatever  falls  without  the  province  of 
your  own  experience,  or  the  teachings  of  this  Book. 
Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  there  any  virtue  in  eagerly 
subscribing  to  every  thing  which  seems  to  have  some 
connection  with  Bible  history  or  doctrine. 

A  woman  had  a  son  who  was  a  sailor.  As  was 
natural,  she  took  great  delight  in  her  boy's  descrip- 
tions of  his  voyages.  After  his  return  from  a  long 
cruise,  he  was  amusing  her,  one  evening,  with  ac- 
counts of  fishes  and  fishing.  Among  other  things, 
he  told  her  how,  on  the  Mediterranean,  he  had  seen 
flying  fish  rise  out  of  the  water,  like  birds,  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet,  and  sail  through  the  air  hundreds  of 
feet.  His  mother,  having  never  before  heard  of  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  concluded  that  he  was  drawing  upon 
his  imagination.  So,  as  soon  as  he  got  to  a  period, 
putting  her  spectacles  back,  she  began:  "Oh,  John, 
John,  this  sea-life  is  going  to  prove  the  ruin  of  you. 
You  used  to  be  such  a  truthful  boy,  and  here  you  are 
trying  to  palm  off  this  nonsense  upon  your  old 
mother." 

After  endeavoring  in  vain  to  convince  her  that  he 
had  not  stretched  the  facts  in  the  least,  he  gave  it  up, 
saying:  "  Well,  mother,  that  was  a  pretty  tough 
story;  but  now  I'll  tell  you  one  that  you'll  like:  a 
few  months  ago  we  went  fishing  over  in  the  Red  Sea, 
and,  would  you  believe  it,  the  very  first  time  that  we 


242  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

cast  the  net,  we  drew  up  a  chariot  wheel,  made  of 
gold,  and  inlaid  with  diamonds,  and  we  all  agreed 
that  it  must  have  been  one  of  the  wheels  that  came 
off  from  Pharaoh's  chariot,  when  he  was  drowned 
in  pursuing  the  Israelites,  about  four  thousand 
years  ago." 

"  There,  there,  John,"  replied  she,  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  "that  sounds  better.  That  is  more  like  what  I 
used  to  read  to  you  from  Exodus,  when  you  were  a 
little  boy.  Tell  me  such  stories  as  that,  and  I'll 
believe  you;  but  don't  let  me  hear  any  more  about 
your  flying  fish." 

Now,  some  who  call  themselves  scientific  people, 
would  have  us  think  that  John's  mother  is  a  fair 
representative  of  the  Christianity  of  the  nineteenth 
century;  that  the  ministry  would  make  everybody 
just  so  set  against  the  facts  which  lie  outside  the 
sacred  narrative,  and  just  so  credulous  about  any- 
thing which  seems  to  have  even  the  remotest 
connection  with  the  scripture  record.  To  give  it  no 
harsher  name,  that  is  a  gross  misrepresentation.  I 
do  not  know  of  any  religious  teacher  who  wants  men 
and  women  to  set  themselves  against  a  truth,  simply 
because  it  is  not  stated  somewhere  between  Genesis 
and  Revelation,  or  to  catch  up  any  statement  merely 
because  its  phraseology  has  a  kind  of  Bible  smack. 
It  is  our  business  to  preach  faith,  not  credulity. 
With  this  faith,  the  right  thinking  which  I  maintain 
that  you  are  accountable  for,  has  a  most  intimate 
connection. 

It  is  well  to  entertain  correct  views  about  baptism, 
election,  perseverance,  perfection  and  other  such 
doctrines;  but,  after  all,  those  views  do  not  form  a 
part  of  that  burden  of  responsibility  which  I  am  ad- 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY.  243 

vocating.  What  you  are  bound  to  do  is,  to  come  to 
the  Bible,  and  more  particularly  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  most  particularly  to  the  Gospels,  with 
reverence,  candor,  and  confidence,  determined  to 
find  out  the  relations  in  which  you  stand  to  God, 
through  a  crucified  Redeemer. 

Open  to  Matthew,  and  you  read:  "Whosoever, 
therefore,  shall  confess  me  before  men,  him  will  I 
confess  also  before  my  Father  in  heaven."  Turn  to 
Mark,  and  this  is  the  testimony:  "He  that  believeth 
and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved."  In  the  next  chapter, 
Luke  speaks:  "To  give  knowledge  of  salvation  to 
his  people,  by  the  remission  of  their  sins,  through 
the  tender  mercy  of  our  God."  And  next,  from  John 
is  heard  the  same  glad  proclamation:  "I  am  come  a 
light  into  the  world,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  me 
should  not  abide  in  darkness." 

And  then,  from  the  Acts  of  those  apostles,  who 
left  the  narrow  limits  of  Palestine,  and  went  forth  to 
spread  the  joyful  news  throughout  the  world,  breaks 
the  announcement:  "  In  every  nation,  he  that 
feareth  God  and  worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted 
with  him." 

Whereupon,  from  the  lips  of  the  last  speaker,  Paul 
catches  the  message,  and  cries  to  the  Romans:  "This 
gospel  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation,  unto 
everyone  that  believeth."  And  next,  the  Corinthians 
hear  it:  "Thanks  be  unto  God  for  his  unspeakable 
gift."  And  presently  far  awav  Galatia  listens  to  the 
new  story:  "Jerusalem  which  is  above  is  free,  which 
is  the  mother  of  us  all."  And  on  the  streets  of 
Ephesus,  which  once  resounded  with  the  shout, 
"Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,"  there  is  another 
voice:  "One  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism,  one  God 


244  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  Father  of  all."  And  from  Philippi,  but  yesterday- 
idolatrous  and  degraded,  this  is  the  strain:  "Our 
citizenship  is  in  heaven."  Colosse,  too,  joins  in  the 
thanksgiving:  "There  is  neither  Greek  nor  Jew,  cir- 
cumcision nor  uncircumcision,  barbarian,  Scythian, 
bond  nor  free;  but  Christ  is  all  in  all."  Thessalonica, 
likewise,  hears  the  assurance:  "God  hath  not  ap- 
pointed us  unto  wrath,  but  to  obtain  salvation  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  From  Timothy  and  Titus 
cometh  the  same  blessed  truth:  "If  we  be  unfaithful, 
yet  He  abideth  faithful."  "  He  gave  himself  for  us, 
that  he  might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity."  .  Nay, 
more,  in  the  short  epistle  to  Philemon,  even  the  poor 
fugitive  slave,  Onesimus,  is  recognized:  "Not  now 
as  a  servant,  but  above  a  servant,  a  brother  beloved 
in  the  Lord." 

In  the  letter  to  the  Hebrews,  Christ  for  all,  is  still 
the  central  truth.  Through  him,  God  says  to  sinners 
everywhere:  "I  will  be  merciful  to  their  unrighteous- 
ness, and  their  sins  and  iniquities  will  I  remember  no 
more."  And  next,  James  and  Peter  and  John  and 
Jude  range  themselves  side  by  side,  and  thus  they 
speak:  "Humble  yourselves  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord, 
and  he  shall  lift  you  up."  "For  Christ  hath  also 
once  suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he 
might  bring  us  to  God."  "The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ 
his  son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin."  "Keep  yourselves 
in  the  love  of  God,  looking  for  the  mercy  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  unto  life  eternal." 

And  then,  as  we  close  the  Book,  Revelation  speaks: 
"The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  come.  And  let  him 
that  heareth  say,  come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst, 
come.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water 
of  life  freely." 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTABILITY.  245 

And,  now,  with  every  book  in  the  New  Testament 
crying,  free  grace,  salvation  to  all,  pardon,  peace, 
heaven,  to  every  man,  woman  and  child,  that  will 
seek  them  through  Christ,  how  dare  you  say  that  you 
are  an  exception,  that  there  is  no  hope  for  you,  or 
that  God  has  no  claims  upon  you? 

Do  you  reply,  that  I  have  been  picking  out  isolated 
passages,  here  and  there,  to  sustain  my  argument? 
You  are  mistaken.  Early  one  morning,  I  opened  my 
Bible,  and  began  at  Matthew,  and  I  kept  turning  leaf 
after  leaf,  and  when  I  got  through  it  was  noon.  The 
same  glorious  doctrine  shone  all  along  the  way.  The 
trouble  was  not  to  find  the  proofs,  for  they  were 
spread  out  everywhere.  The  perplexity  lay  in  mak- 
ing selections  from  the  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
verses  that  cried:  "Take  me — make  me  your  witness 
for  Christ." 

I  do  not  deny  that  you  can  quote  some  hard,  ugly 
texts.  But  bring  them  here,  every  one.  Heap  them 
as  high  as  you  can;  and,  then,  mountain  high  above 
them,  I'll  pile  the  testimony  from  the  lips  of  Jesus 
and  his  apostles,  to  show  that  your  conclusion  is 
false. 

With  all  this  evidence  within  your  reach,  you  are 
responsible  for  right  thinking  on  this  question.  From 
the  tremendous  weight  of  that  burden,  there  is  for 
you  no  escape. 

Finally,  God  bids  you  put  right  thinking  into 
right  acting.  That  burden  multiplies  the  pressure  of 
the  other,  and  you  can  not  roll  it  upon  the  shoulders 
of  any  body  else.  Are  you  trying  to  rid  yourself  of 
it,  in  that  old,  old  way?  Are  you  pleading  the  incon- 
sistencies and  iniquities  of  church  members  as  an 
excuse?  Are  you  scornfully  pointing  to  the  hellish 


246  SERMONS  AMD   ADDRESSES. 

scandals   that   sometimes    settle    down    around   the 
pulpit? 

That  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  case. 
Suppose  that  church  members  are  as  bad  as  you 
claim;  suppose  that  they  are  a  thousand-fold  worse. 
Nay,  more;  suppose  that  there  is  not  living  a  solitary 
professor  of  religion  that  is  not  a  hypocrite,  or  a  sol- 
itary minister  of  the  gospel  whose  character  is  not 
blacker  than  Francis  Moulton  painted  the  character 
of  Henry  Ward  Beecher, — what  then?  Does  that 
change,  one  iota,  your  personal  relation  to  God?  Is 
not  your  heavenly  Father  saying  to  you,  individually: 
"Here, — now, — I  want  one  genuine  Christian  in  this 
world.  I  call  upon  you  to  be  that  one?" 


SYMMETRY   IN  THE  MINISTRY. 

"  Take  heed  unto  thyself,  and  unto  the  doctrine." — I  Tim- 
othy iv:  16. 

Notice  the  conjunction  :  "Take  heed  unto  thy- 
self, and  unto  the  doctrine."  The  clauses  are  co-or- 
dinate. Culture  and  creed  stand  before  us  hand  in 
hand,  twin  brothers.  Let  no  quarrel  arise.  Let 
neither,  in  derision,  leap  over  the  walls  which  the 
other  is  building  for  the  Eternal  City. 

Paul  had  no  conception  of  a  faultless  manhood 
and  a  faultless  orthodoxy,  as  two  separable  and  an- 
tagonistic possibilities.  With  him,  religion  found 
nothing  too  common  for  the  touch  of  consecration, 
nothing  too  ethereal  for  faith's  firm  tread. 

In  sympathy  with  his  view,  and  following  the 
textual  order,  we  inquire  what  is  meant  by  the  words: 
"  Take  heed  to  thyself." 

First,  take  heed  to  the  physical  nature.  The  con- 
nection is  so  intimate  between  bodily,  mental  and 
moral  health,  that  it  should  not  be  disregarded  by 
any  one  and,  least  of  all,  by  the  preacher.  There 
are  two  extremes,  either  of  which  is  to  be  avoided. 
It  was  the  monastic  notion  that  the  body  should  be 
whipped  and  mortified  into  subjection  to  the  soul. 
But,  taught  by  sad  experience  that  the  body  can 
not  be  kept  under  by  the  lash,  men  have  latterly 
come  to  court  its  good  graces  with  most  flattering 
caresses.  You  may  hear,  on  every  side,  loud-voiced 
apostles  of  muscular  Christianity.  Let  us  have 
more  sinew,  and  we  shall  have  less  sin,  is  the  burden 
of  the  new  gospel.  Trade  your  commentaries  for  a 


248  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

health-lift,  if  you  would  help  men  on  to  holiness. 
Dyspepsia  and  liver  complaint  are  the  bane  of  the- 
ology. Cure  those,  if  you  would  secure  soundness 
in  this. 

What,  however,  was  Paul's  doctrine?  We  find  in 
his  teachings  no  sympathy  with  asceticism.  He 
deals  considerately  with  physical  weakness.  He  pre- 
scribes thoughtfully  for  Timothy's  bodily  infirmities. 
Yet  he,  at  the  same  time,  guards  him  against  the  no- 
tion that  he  must  make  the  Greek  ideal  of  physical 
development  his  ideal  in  the  ministry.  In  the  chap- 
ter before  us,  he  says  boldly:  "  Bodily  exercise 
profiteth  little."  What  avails  it  to  pile  up  the  muscle 
on  your  arm,  till  you  are  equal  to  a  boxing  bout  with 
old  Pollux  himself  ?  Will  that  iron  hand  come 
down  any  heavier  for  truth  ?  Should  the  preacher 
put  himself  in  training  till  he  becomes  a  brawny 
Charon,  stout  enough  to  scull  every  waiting  soul 
across  Acheron? 

In  the  heroic  age,  Homer  could  find  no  more  com- 
plimentary terms  than  "Horse-whipper,"  and  "Horse- 
tamer."  With  these  he  greets  his  favorites  in  every 
encounter.  But,  is  there,  to-day,  no  danger  that  the 
ponies  may  run  away  with  the  pulpit?  Shall  we 
rush  upon  the  field,  crying  with  Richard  III:  "A 
horse!  A  horse!  My  kingdom  for  a  horse!  "  Is  the 
ability  to  drive  "tandem"  or  four-in-hand,  to  be 
henceforth  regarded  as  one  of  the  chief  clerical 
accomplishments?  The  church  used  to  put  the  lash 
into  a  man's  hand,  and  bid  him  use  it  on  himself. 
Shall  we  retain  the  lash,  but  substitute  horse-flesh 
for  human  flesh?  Seriously,  can  we  never  learn  to 
treat  the  body,  neither  as  a  slave,  nor  as  a  master; 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE  MINISTRY.  249 

but  as  a  loving  servant,  that  is  to  be  kindly  trained  to 
do  the  bidding  of  the  soul. 

Unto  the  minister  so  much  bodily  exercise  is  profit- 
able as  is  necessary  to  keep  bile  and  brain  on  the 
best  of  terms  with  each  other.  Beyond  that,  the 
cultivation  of  muscular  tissue  is  a  waste  of  force  that 
is  needed  elsewhere.  The  steadiest  moral  nerve  and 
the  clearest  spiritual  vision  may  be  looked  for  when 
the  pulse  is  full,  soft  and  regular.  It  is  only  then 
that  a  man  is  in  condition  to  preach. 

Next  to  health  comes  mental  breadth.  When  Paul 
wrote  to  Timothy,  mental  grasp  would  have  been 
the  better  term.  Christianity  and  heathenism  had 
just  met  for  their  first  fierce  encounter  upon  the 
arena.  They  stood  face  to  face,  like  two  gallant 
wrestlers  of  the  earlier  day.  It  was  a  question  of 
grip  and  throttle.  But,  now,  science  has  broken  up 
the  circle  of  the  amphitheater,  and  rimmed  us  round 
with  an  ever-receding  horizon.  Grasp  is  still  wanted 
in  the  ministry,  but  breadth  yet  more.  May  we  be 
delivered  from  that  narrowness  which  would  bring 
on  a  miserable  duel,  when  temperate  arbitration 
might  settle  the  difficulty.  It  is  wiser  to  learn  from 
the  spirit  of  Geneva  in  the  nineteenth  century,  than 
from  the  spirit  of  Geneva  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

There  are  several  cheap  kinds  of  sermon  padding; 
but  the  cheapest  of  them  all  is  the  indiscriminate 
attack  upon  the  naturalist,  as  necessarily  the  high- 
priest  of  naturalism.  If  you  would  have  a  model  of 
the  forcible-feeble  style  of  discourse,  give  a  man  a 
bad  theological  scare,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  adjec- 
tives, and  then  cry  Huxley  and  Darwin  in  his  ear. 

One  great  hindrance  to  the  spread  of  the  gospel, 
is  this  apparent  anxiety  in  the  church,  lest  the  foun- 


250  SERMONS   AND   ADDRESSES. 

dations  of  the  faith  may  be  undermined  in  the  search 
after  the  secrets  of  nature.  So  long  as  the  keepers 
of  the  temple  manifest  such  trepidation,  the  multi- 
tude will  suspect  that  the  building  is  insecure,  and 
stay  outside. 

Earth's  alluvium  is  rich.  Let  the  investigators 
work  there  in  peace.  No  matter  what  their  motives, 
we  shall  be  the  better  off  for  every  discovery.  And, 
if  some  excavator  does,  now  and  then,  shout  to  the 
surface,  that  he  has  found  the  bottom  fact,  that  he 
has  touched  the  Ultimate  Cause,  we  can  afford  to  wait 
patiently,  knowing  that  when  the  laborers  have  gone 
down  through  the  alluvium,  they  will  but  come  to 
the  Rock  of  Ages. 

The  telescope  is  ours.  It  sweeps  the  azure.  We 
can  not  afford  to  lay  down  the  instrument  which  God 
has  given  us  for  all  this  wide  survey,  this  OVERLOOK, 
and  fall  to  quarreling  with  him,  who,  microscope  in 
hand,  is  trying  to  get  the  UNDERLOOK. 

We  foolishly  suffer  from  the  apprehension  that  he 
will  not  teach  just  what  we  want  taught;  that  he  will 
not  use  the  old  theological  crucible.  We  are  a  little 
doubtful  whether  to  trust  truth  to  come  out  truth, 
whoever  manipulates.  We  are  all  the  time  whisper- 
ing innuendoes  against  him  who  uses  the  microscope. 
We,  lawyer-like,  besmut  his  character,  so  that  we 
may  weaken  his  influence,  should  he  come  into  court 
with  some  perplexing  circumstantial  evidence,  in  the 
so-called  case  of  Science  versus  Revelation. 

Or,  if  we  do  not  do  this,  we  commit  another  piece 
of  folly.  We,  whom  God  has  commissioned  to  search 
into  the  wonders  of  the  spiritual  sky-blue,  abandon 
the  observatory,  and,  borrowing  the  microscope,  after 
brief  superficial  study,  essay  to  enlighten  the  world, 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE   MINISTRY.  251 

in  orthodox  fashion,  on  the  relation  of  Genesis  to 
cell  genesis,  and  of  Revelation  to  protoplasm.  Such 
breadth  means  nothing  but  thinness.  It  weakens  the 
minister's  influence  quite  as  much  as  the  narrowness 
already  described.  He  who  preaches  the  gospel  to 
save  souls,  can  not  afford  the  time  for  learned  re- 
searches in  the  various  departments  of  science.  He 
will  become  the  laughing-stock  of  the  savant,  if  he 
makes  the  attempt  with  the  limited  resources  at  his 
command.  Furthermore,  he  will  fritter  away  those 
energies  which  should  be  used  to  compel  men  to 
come  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  That  breadth  of 
mind  which  he  needs,  is  the  ability  to  see  that  all 
important  truths  are  not  clasped  between  Bible  lids, 
and  to  welcome  fearlessly,  thankfully,  every  discov- 
ery made  by  the  specialist  in  the  many  fields  of  in- 
vestigation, even  though  it  may  perplex  him  for 
awhile  to  reconcile  that  discovery  with  the  time-hon- 
ored creed. 

Again,  the  minister  must  give  heed  to  his  manli- 
ness. Let  there  be  no  trifling  with  self-respect.  The 
graduate  leaves  the  seminary  with  the  determination 
to  seek  a  good  life  rather  than  a  good  living;  but  he 
often  finds  the  living  so  poor  that  it  impoverishes 
the  life.  To  better  the  living,  he  unconsciously  be- 
gins to  cast  about  him  for  what  are  called  in  the 
world's  markets,  "preacher's  rates."  But  he  never 
asks  for  a  minister's  discount  without  discounting 
his  own  ministerial  influence.  He  can  not  look  the 
tradesman  quite  so  steadily  in  the  eye.  There  is  a 
semi-mendicancy  in  the  transaction  which  tells 
against  his  Sabbath  message.  An  unregenerate 
butcher  can  hardly  see  why  he  should  be  called  upon 
to  furnish  clerical  roast  beef  at  twelve  cent:; 


252  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  pound,  while  the  ordinary  worldling  pays  fifteen 
cents  without  any  grumbling.  The  preacher  who 
would  stand  erect  in  his  pulpit,  must  be  able  to  walk 
through  shop  and  store  without  stooping.  Of  course, 
nothing  is  said  against  such  free-will  offerings  as 
come  spontaneously  from  parishioner  to  pastor. 
These  open  the  heart  of  the  former  and  bring  no 
degradation  to  the  latter.  They  are  not  to  be  looked 
upon  as  an  affront.  Let  such  favors  be  accepted, 
gracefully  and  gratefully.  Still,  there  is  danger  that 
they  will  presently  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  church 
dues,  or  parish  perquisites;  that,  if  they  fail,  the 
minister  will  look  upon  himself  as  not  quite  fairly 
treated,  or  that,  if  they  are  furnished,  they  will  be 
taken  with  scant  courtesy. 

Did  you  ever  know  a  brother  who,  when  a  country 
parishioner  had  put  a  bag  of  Bell-flowers  into  the 
cellar  of  the  parsonage,  would  meet  him  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs,  and  look  at  the  size  of  the  sack,  as  if 
making  an  estimate,  whether  all  the  tithes  had  been 
brought  in.  The  pulpit  can  better  bear  the  charge  of 
being  musty  and  cob-webby  with  antiquity,  than  the 
suspicion  of  becoming  spongy. 

A  second  essential  element  of  manliness  is  natural- 
ness. There  is  a  foolish  habit  of  gauging  speech  and 
deportment,  by  the  question:  "Is  it  ministerial?" 
To  that  we  fall  to  trimming  word  and  action.  The 
consequence  is  a  style  of  spiritual  affectation,  which 
excites  prejudice  against  the  profession.  There  is 
too  much  clerical  primness,  though,  with  gratitude 
be  it  acknowledged,  there  has  been  a  marked  im- 
provement, within  a  quarter  of  a  century.  So  small 
a  matter  as  the  discarding  of  the  regulation  white 
hat  and  stock  has  helped  to  humanize  the  clergy. 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE   MINISTRY. 

The  wearing  of  such  a  uniform  gave  a  ghastly  look, 
and  the  man  naturally  fell  to  cultivating  cadaverous- 
ness.  When  such  a  one  held  out  his  hand  for  you 
to  shake,  you  felt  like  saying,  with  old  king  Lear: 
"  Let  me  wipe  it  first,  it  smells  of  mortality." 

Still,  you  may  see  a  remnant  of  the  ancient  idea, 
in  the  way  in  which  many  seek  to  banish  humor 
from  the  pulpit.  No  censure  can  be  too  severe  for 
the  preacher  who  plays  the  buffoon  behind  the 
desk.  May  the  profession  be  forever  rid  of  min- 
isterial Merry  Andrews.  But,  if  the  Creator  has 
given  a  man  the  faculty  of  impaling  on  a  witti- 
cism all  forms  of  spiritual  flunkeyism  in  the  church, 
or  of  dissolving  in  humor,  nauseating  truth,  so  that 
people  can  and  will  take  it,  that  faculty  is  from 
God  and  is  to  be  used  for  God,  as  freely  and  fear- 
lessly as  any  other  mental  endowment.  We  can- 
not afford  to  surrender  this  divine  gift  to  the  press, 
the  stage  and  the  forum,  or  to  permit  its  use  to 
the  clergyman  on  secular  occasions,  and  deny  it  on 
the  Sabbath. 

Max  Muller  says  wisely:  "  Humor  is  a  surer  sign 
of  strong  convictions  and  perfect  safety  than  guarded 
solemnity."  Yet,  how  people  do  dote  upon  that 
same  guarded  solemnity,  and  the  more  unnatural  it 
is,  the  more  supernatural  they  take  it  to  be. 

A  third  essential  element  of  manliness  is  self- 
forgetfulness.  One  of  Virgil's  most  wonderful  pictures 
is  that  of  two  dragons,  which,  in  the  temple,  coil 
their  bodies  and  hide  their  hissing  heads  behind  the 
glittering  shield  of  divinity  itself.  And  those  ugly 
twin  monsters,  pride  and  ambition,  are  always  watch- 
ing their  chance  to  steal  in  here. 

There  are   many  in   the  average  audience  whom 


254  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

this  trouble  in  the  pulpit  may  not  harm.  The  young 
and  the  thoughtless  may  not  be  repelled  by  its  pres- 
ence. But  not  so  is  it  with  those  who  have  grown 
old  and  hardened  in  sin.  You  go  fishing.  You  may 
walk  along  a  trout  brook  in  plain  sight,  and  catch  a 
kreel  full  of  fish.  But  they  are  all  young  fry.  There 
is  a  wily  veteran,  just  under  that  big,  moss-covered 
rock.  You  may  try  him  with  every  fly  in  your  book. 
He  rather  fancies  the  bate,  but  he  does  not  fancy 
you.  You  come  again  the  next  day.  You  stoop  and 
get  behind  the  rock  and  cast  a  line.  That  brown 
hackle  is  the  morsel;  but,  just  as  he  is  going  to  rise, 
he  changes  his  mind  and  glides  away.  Why?  He 
caught  sight  of  a  hat  and  a  pair  of  eyes, — and  they 
took  away  his  appetite  for  brown  hackle.  The  third 
day,  you  put  your  hat  into  your  pocket  and  advance 
on  all-fours.  You  now  go  by  faith  and  not  by  sight. 
You  would  not  have  the  least  shadow  on  the  stream 
so  much  as  give  a  hint  of  your  existence. 

A  butterfly,  with  wings  of  bronze,  drops  upon  the 
surface  of  the  water.  Strike!  Let  him  play!  That's 
a  three-pounder!  So  is  it  in  fishing  for  MEN. 

Sympathy  with  common  experiences  is  no  less  im- 
portant. There  is  a  great  danger  that  we  shall  con- 
found sentimentalizing  with  sympathizing;  that  we 
shall  pattern  after  Rev.  Laurence  Sterne;  that  we 
shall  look  pathetically  through  the  window  at  the 
captive;  but  be  very  careful  never  to  get  upon  the 
same  side  of  the  bars  with  the  captive;  that  we  shall 
make  the  whole  journey  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem  a 
merely  sentimental  journey. 

Did  you  never  go  forth  from  some  pen-picturing 
of  distress,  and  find  yourself  in  the  condition  of  Pip, 
in  Great  Expectations? — "with  a  whole  gallon  of  con- 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE  MINISTRY.  255 

descension,  and  only  a  pint  of  ale,"  to  cheer  the 
distressed.  In  training  the  imagination,  to  catch  a 
Tennyson's  "voice  of  shipwreck,  on  a  shoreless  sea," 
there  may  be  a  kind  of  opium  ecstacy,  which  unmans 
the  soul,  for  shoving  its  life-boat  out  into  a  sea  with 
shore  breaker-white,  and  for  bending  to  the  oar  to 
rescue  the  perishing.  We  may  so  accustom  ourselves 
to  mounting  to  the  attics  of  fancy,  as  to  have  no 
heart,  to  drag  our  weary  feet  up  the  rickety  stairways 
to  the  top  story  of  the  tenement  house. 

The  parish  is  the  natural  corrector  of  the  study. 
It  gives  us  an  exquisite  thrill,  to  wring  some  im- 
aginary hand  of  distress, — a  hand  that  is  delicate  and 
white;  but  he  that  would  successfully  minister  before 
God  unto  men,  must  have  such  interest  in  the  com- 
mon-place work,  temptations,  and  trials  of  life,  that 
he  is  always  eager  to  clasp  the  hard  and  sweaty 
palm  of  the  clown,  that  he  may  lead  the  clown  up  to 
a  crown. 

Focalizing,  now,  these  few  separate  rays  which  we 
have  been  trying  to  throw  upon  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject, we  see  that,  with  physical  health  and  mental 
breadth,  and  a  manliness  that  is  self-respectful, 
natural,  self-forgetful,  and  heartily  sympathetic,  the 
minister  is,  on  the  manward  side,  in  readiness  for  ef- 
fective work.  So  essential  are  these  qualifications, 
that  there  would  seem  to  be  no  danger  of  their  being 
unduly  magnified.  But,  when  a  generous,  cultivated, 
brilliant  humanitarianism  comes  forward  at  this  point 
and  declares  that  no  more  is  necessary — that  char- 
acter is  everything,  that  creed  is  nothing;  that  if  a 
man  be  a  living  epistle  known  and  read  of  all,  it 
matters  little  what  theories  he  advances  from  the 
pulpit, — it  is  high  time  to  re-read  the  second  part  of 


256  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Paul's  pastoral  charge  to  Timothy:  "Take  heed  unto 
the  doctrine."  Equip  thyself  upon  the  Godward 
side. 

Present  limits  permit  the  notice  of  only  two  par- 
ticulars. The  first  is  a  fearless  radicalism 

The  minister  is  called  to  set  himself  against  what 
Lowell  characterizes  as,  "  a  feeble-minded  piety, 
which  dreads  the  cutting  away  of  an  orthodox  tumor 
of  misbelief,  as  if  the  life  blood  of  faith  would  follow, 
and  would  keep  even  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way 
of  salvation,  if  only  enough  generations  had  tripped 
over  it  to  make  it  venerable." 

Good  men  have  unwittingly  introduced  the  poison 
into  our  theological  systems.  Good  men  have  unin- 
tentionally dropped  mischievous  things  in  the  path 
of  life.  But  that  is  no  reason  why  we  should  use 
fomentations  for  the  tumors,  and  cover  up  the 
stumbling-blocks  with  our  mantels  of  charity.  The 
knife  for  the  one,  and  the  fire  for  the  other!  Then 
shall  we  be  ready  for  the  treatment  of  heterodoxy. 

There  are  two  sides  to  this  question.  Radicalism 
has  a  call  in  both  directions.  We  desire  not,  to  hush 
the  talk  about  the  old  tumors  of  orthodoxy.  Ex- 
pose them  all,  and  give  them  all  heroic  treatment. 
But  use  the  probe,  impartially.  Try  it  upon  the 
"other  -doxy,"  and  you  will  find  that,  of  all  tumors, 
the  oldest  and  the  deadliest  is  the  one  implanted  in 
human  speculation,  when  heterodoxy  first  became, 
articulate,  in  the  words:  "Thou  shalt  not  surely  die." 

But  sin  does  KILL.  Psychology  says  so.  History 
says  so.  Paul  says  so.  Christ  says  so.  We  shrink 
aghast  from  the  ruin  which  the  soul  may  bring  upon 
itself,  and  there  is  an  impulse  to  take  refuge  in  the 
tempter's  utterance:  "Thou  shalt  not  surely  die." 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE   MINISTRY.  257 

There  may  be  remedial  virtue  in  sin,  if  not  here, 
then,  perhaps,  elsewhere.  Is  not  heterodoxy  trying 
to  inoculate  orthodoxy,  with  the  virus  of  that  same 
old  tumor?  He  only  is  kind  to  his  brother  and  true 
to  his  Master,  who  tenderly,  but  plainly,  recognizes 
the  badness  of  the  case.  "Take  heed  to  the  doc- 
trine." 

We  are  here  at  the  root  of  things,  the  tap-root. 
Dare  to  be  radical.  But  do  not  rest  satisfied  in  deal- 
ing with  those  fibrous  roots  that  run  laterally,  near 
the  surface.  Such  work  is  easier  and  pleasanter.  It 
gives  less  offense  to  others.  It  disturbs  your  own 
pity  less.  But  it  does  not  meet  God's  requirements. 
You  must  find  sin's  farthest  reach.  That  goes  down, 
down,  to  DEATH,  a  death  the  end  of  which  we  can 
not  see,  strain  our  tearful  eyes  as  we  will. 

In  this  development  theory  of  evil,  there  are  no 
"breaks."  It  is  from  bad  to  worse  all  the  way,  till 
vision  touches  the  border  land  of  darkness,  about 
which  we  know  nothing,  unless  we  accept  Revelation. 

In  the  name  of  reason,  how  can  we  discard  pres- 
ent experiences  and  analogies,  and  picking  up,  here, 
a  possibility  on  supposed  conditions,  and,  there,  a 
perhaps  under  existing  conditions,  try  to  construct 
a  situation  which  shall  abolish  the  death  penalty 
under  the  government  of  God.  Such  speculation  is 
cruel.  Under  the  guise  of  mercy,  it  palliates  guilt, 
belittles  righteousness,  loosens  the  bonds  of  moral 
obligation,  and  leads  the  soul  to  trifle  with  its  own 
eternal  destiny. 

Sin  is  the  radical  problem.  And  that  is  only  a 
pseudo-radicalism,  which  would  dismiss  it  with  sun- 
dry surface  guesses,  dignifying  them  by  the  name  of 
an  answer.  Who  is  the  genuine  radical?  Which 


2^8  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

shall  we  trust,  the  feminine,  or  the  masculine  lobe  of 
the  brain?  Which  is  the  more  grandly  compassion- 
ate, the  weak  pity  which  hides,  or  the  white-lipped 
resolution  which  lays  bare  the  terrible  ruin  wrought 
by  perverted  free  will? 

Lastly:  Preach  Christ.  Sin  means  death.  Christ 
means  life.  The  reach  is  infinite,  either  way.  Moral 
evil  is  upon  us.  We  cannot  solve  the  mystery  of  its 
permission.  Our  subtlest  conjectures  are  only  par- 
tially satisfactory.  That  impossible  task  is  not  re- 
quired. Our  commission  is  to  herald  salvation  from 
ruin.  So  much  we  know,  that,  as  permitted  evil  was 
in  God's  thought  from  the  beginning,  likewise  from 
the  beginning  in  God's  thought  was  the  Logos  who 
took  bodily  form  at  Bethlehem.  The  insinuation  of 
malevolence  is  met  by  the  gift  of  divinity  incarnate. 

The  heart  throbs  and  swells,  as  we  again  catch 
sight  of  the  great  tidal  wave  of  Christian  thought 
that  flows  and  ebbs  through  nineteen  centuries.  It 
is  embodied  in  that  word,  which  one  party  pronoun- 
ces ATONEMENT,  and  the  other  party  pronounces 
AT-ONE-MENT.  And  each  is  partly  right.  When  you 
look  heavenward,  and  God's  righteous  law  towers 
upward  in  all  its  majesty,  the  cross  does  mean  ATONE- 
MENT. But,  when  you  look  earthward,  and  see  the 
Father's  arms  thrown  around  his  prodigal  boy  come 
home,  those  blood-red  letters  change  to  characters 
of  golden  light,  and  the  word  grows  syllabic,  and 
the  inscription  on  the  cross  reads  AT-ONE-MENT. 

All  these  theories  that  give  us  some  hint  of  the 
fathomless  meaning  of  the  life  and  death  of  Christ 
call  for  gratitude.  But  all  creeds  combined,  from 
ECCE  HOMO  to  ECCE  DEUS  fall  infinitely  short  of 
declaring  the  humanity  and  the  divinity  of  Jesus. 


SYMMETRY  IN   THE   MINISTRY.  259 

Boundless  theme!     Our  inspiration  and  our  despair! 

Yet,  when  the  scoffer  points  to  Calvary,  and  asks, 
what  more  can  you  make  of  it  than  the  central  gib- 
bet of  the  universe  ? — the  heart  flies  to  the  rescue 
with  the  answer:  "  SOME-HOW  IT  SAVES." 

And  the  risen  Redeemer  speaks:  "  Go,  disciple  all 
nations.  Lo  I  am  with  you  alway,  unto  the  end  of 
the  world." 

"  With  us  alway,"  Our  Master, — what  need  we  more!  Let 
our  walk  be  closer  with  thee  in  our  toils,  closer  with  thee  in 
our  trials,  closer  with  thee  in  our  joys,  closer  with  thee  in  our 
sorrows,  closer  with  thee  as  the  burdens  of  years  increase, 
closer  with  thee  as  we  near  the  bounds  of  life,  closer  with  thee 
as  we  go  down  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow,  closer  with  thee 
as  we  climb  the  Heights  of  the  Everlasting — and  that  will  be 
Heaven — Amen! 


MEMORY   AND    IMAGINATION. 

"  Forgetting   those   things   that   are  behind,   and   reaching 
forth  unto  those  things  that  are  before."— Philippians  iii:  13. 

Memory  and  Imagination — Prime  Factors  in  the 
Problem  of  Life!  This  is  the  theme  which  invites 
our  study  to-day.  Says  an  objector,  however,  the 
text  does  not  commend  remembering,  but  forgetting. 
You  can  not,  therefore,  legitimately  use  the  verse  in 
the  manner  proposed.  So  it  might  seem  at  the  first 
glance,  but  a  moment's  thought  brings  relief.  It  is 
obvious,  that  the  Apostle  can  not  advocate  the 
blotting  out  of  the  past,  leaving  there  nothing  but  utter 
blankness.  That  would  be  to  destroy  all  the  materials 
for  that  very  progress  which  he  everywhere  enjoins. 
What  he  desires  is,  that  we  should  learn  to  discrimi- 
nate between  those  things  which  will  hinder  and  those 
things  which  will  promote  our  advancement,  and  then 
forget  the  former  but  remember  the  latter.  This  is  a 
constant  puzzle.  The  feeling  is  like  that  which  we 
have  in  taking  up  a  daily  paper.  We  are  perplexed 
to  know  what  to  skip,  and  what  to  read.  So,  here, 
the  first  difficulty  is  to  decide  what  to  banish  from 
the  mind,  and  what  to  retain  in  the  mind.  Now,  we 
ought  to  carry  from  the  past  into  the  future,  whatever 
will  be  helpful  there,  and  drop  everything  else.  The 
division  may  be  made  by  picking  out  the  bad  and 
leaving  the  good,  or  by  picking  out  the  good  and 
leaving  the  bad.  Either  method  involves  the  other. 
And  so  it  is  proper  to  use  the  text  to  cover  the  theme 
proposed. 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  26 1 

Consider,  therefore: 

I.  Things  to  forget. 

II.  The  use  to  be  made  of  things  remembered. 
We  should   train    ourselves   to  forget  a?iimosities. 

To  cherish  these,  is  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  barbarism.  To  nurse  the  desire  for  revenge  was 
considered  one  of  the  noblest  virtues  among  the 
ancients.  Gratitude  for  kindness  was  not  more  highly 
esteemed.  Modern  savagery  subscribes  to  the  same 
creed.  Such  is  the  inspiration  of  the  scalp  dance, 
among  the  aborigines.  Such  is  the  sentiment  of  the 
pioneer,  who  steadies  his  rifle,  with  the  doctrine  that 
the  only  good  Indian  is  a  dead  Indian.  Whoever 
harbors  resentiment  and  bides  his  time  for  retaliation, 
is  no  better  than  a  Vandal,  or  a  Comanche,  or  a  bor- 
der ruffian. 

Such  a  one  does  not  belong  within  the  pale  of 
civilization,  much  less  within  that  of  Christianity. 
Still,  this  detestable  trait  clings  to  us  all  most  obsti- 
nately, and  under  most  deceptive  disguises.  Even 
the  devout  believer,  who  fancies  himself  under  the 
dominion  of  the  Beatitudes,  is  suddenly  shocked  to 
discover  the  war  paint  on  his  face  and  the  tomahawk 
in  his  hand;  or,  if  the  picture  is  not  so  startling,  he 
will  detect,  under  what  seems  to  be  zeal  for  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  a  lurking  purpose,  to  gratify  his  own  per- 
sonal hostility. 

You  may  read  this,  between  the  lines,  in  the  bi- 
ographies of  almost  all  the  world's  great  reformers. 
And  rigid  self-examination  will  reveal  the  same  fact, 
in  your  own  humbler  experience.  The  ugly  spirit 
will  insidiously  worm  its  way  into  religious  talk,  or 
prayer,  or  sermon. 

Now,   these    animosities   must  be    banished    from 


262  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

our  recollection.  We  are  not  to  sort  them  over» 
with  a  view  to  retaining  some,  and  expelling  some. 
All  must  go.  The  presence  of  any  will  be  a  curse  to 
other  people  and  to  ourselves.  This  will  require  the 
most  patient  and  persistent  discipline  of  the  will. 
Our  mental  philosophies  abound  in  directions  for 
training  the  power  of  memory.  But  there  is  also  a 
training  to  forget,  which  is  sadly  neglected,  both  in 
theory  and  in  practice.  This  is  more  under  the  con- 
trol of  volition,  than  we  commonly  suppose.  So 
strong  is  the  passion  for  brooding  over  our  vindictive 
feelings,  that  we  say  that  it  is  ungovernable;  that, 
possibly,  we  may  forgive,  but  that  we  can  never  forget. 
Are  we,  however,  so  helpless  under  the  tyranny  of 
passion?  If,  instead  of  taking  it  for  granted  that 
our  attention  must  set  steadily  in  that  direction,  we 
would  resolutely  seek  to  divert  it  to  other  activ- 
ities, we  should  be  surprised  at  the  mastery  which 
would  come,  in  the  lapse  of  years.  •  Of  course,  the 
older  we  are  before  we  open  the  struggle,  the  more 
protracted  it  will  be.  This  science  of  forgetting  is 
begun  too  late  in  life.  The  child  ought  to  be  taught 
at  the  outset,  that  it  is  just  as  necessary  for  him  to 
learn  to  forget,  as  it  is  to  learn  to  remember;  that 
there  are  certain  things  which  he  must  discipline 
himself  to  withdraw  his  attention  from,  just  as  there 
are  certain  other  things  which  he  must  discipline 
himself  to  fix  his  attention  upon.  Much  may  be  done 
through  the  direct  action  of  volition.  Still  more  may 
be  accomplished,  indirectly,  by  occupying  the  mind 
with  loftier  purposes,  by  keeping  it  so  busy  with 
nobler  employments,  that  the  latter  will  thrust  out, 
and  keep  out,  the  resentments  which  clamor  for  hos- 
pitality. Test  thus,  I  pray  you,  the  expulsive  power 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  26$ 

of  benevolent  thought  and  beneficent  action.  Never 
till  you  learn  to  forget,  as  well  as  to  forgive,  can  you 
know  the  fulness,  the  beauty  and  the  sweetness  of 
Christian  liberty. 

Forget  failures.  Respecting  animosities,  the  rule 
has  no  exceptions;  but  respecting  failures,  the  injunc- 
tion is  less  sweeping.  We  should  consign  to  oblivion 
only  the  failures  which  would  be  a  hindrance,  if  re- 
membered. There  is  a  brooding  over  defeats,  which 
unnerves  resolution,  and  discourages  fine  achieve- 
ment. It  lowers  the  tone  of  mental  and  spiritual 
life,  and  sinks  the  doxology  into  the  dirge.  Who 
has  not  looked  upon  this  raven,  and  listened  to  its 
doleful  nevermore?  Are  we,  then,  unable  to  shake  off 
the  dismal  spell?  Multitudes  yield  themselves  un- 
resisting captives,  and,  thenceforth,  clank  the  fetters 
of  hopes  always  dying,  but  never  dead.  You  meet 
such  people  daily,  you  hear  their  inarticulate  cries, 
your  heart  goes  out  to  them  in  sympathy,  and  yet 
you  are  powerless  to  rescue.  The  only  remedy  lies 
in  themselves,  in  their  consigning  to  oblivion  this 
wretched  past,  which  they  carry  about  with  them 
like  a  body  of  death.  A  man  may  decide  very 
quickly,  whether  a  failure  should  be  forgotten.  So 
soon  as  he  finds  that  to  recur  to  a  defeat,  weakens 
his  confidence  in  his  power  to  succeed  in  any  worthy 
department  of  effort,  he  may  know  that  it  is  his  duty 
to  withdraw  his  mind  from  that  occurrence,  and  seek 
to  break  up  the  laws  of  association,  which  will  be 
most  likely  to  suggest  that  portion  of  his  experience. 
At  first,  the  very  effort  not  to  remember,  will  seem 
to  fix  the  matter  more  firmly  in  mind,  just  as  in 
insomnia,  the  resolution  to  expel  an  agitating 
thought,  will  sometimes  send  it  whirling  through  the 


264  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

brain  chambers  with  increased  velocity.  But  per- 
sistent resolution  will  finally  banish  the  unwelcome 
visitor,  or  thrust  it  into  the  background  through  the 
introduction  of  more  pleasing  guests.  No  one  has 
gained  a  proper  self-mastery,  until  he  is  able  to  shut 
and  lock  the  door  upon  any  memory  which  will  dis- 
courage him  in  striving  for  nobler  attainments. 

Be  on  your  guard  against  a  morbid  passion  for 
going  back  to  the  different  battle  grounds,  on  which 
you  have  been  overthrown,  and  living  your  miseries 
over  again.  There  is  only  one  class  of  people  who 
succeed  in  making  that  practice  profitable.  It  is 
composed  of  such  poets  as  turn  their  woes  into  verse, 
at  so  much  a  canto.  They  may  convert  into  cash  the 
opening  of  old  wounds,  just  as  professional  beggars 
subject  themselves  to  all  sorts  of  inflictions,  that 
they  may  the  more  surely  excite  the  pity  of  the 
passer-by. 

But  the  best  that  most  of  us  can  get  out  of  an  old 
hurt,  is  to  get  well  of  it  as  soon  as  possible,  and  to 
get  away  from  it  as  far  as  possible.  Usually,  the 
most  dangerous  thing  that  we  can  carry  into  a 
present  encounter,  is  the  picture  of  a  previous  dis- 
aster. It  secretly  takes  the  stamina  out  of  us,  so  that 
we  are  panic-struck  at  the  first  shock  of  arms.  What 
is  true  of  physical  and  mental  courage  is  equally  feo 
of  moral  courage.  For  this  reason,  in  the  Christian 
life,  it  is  wise  to  forget  the  sins  of  the  past  which  fill 
us  with  apprehension  of  our  future  triumph.  Yet 
many  seem  to  regard  it  as  a  sort  of  virtue,  to  impede 
their  spiritual  progress,  by  loading  themselves  with 
the  recollection  of  transgressions,  which  God  himself 
has  promised  to  remember  no  more  forever. 

Forget  successes ;  not  all,  but  such  as  fill  the  mind 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  265 

with  a  sense  of  satisfaction,  and  tempt  you  to  relax 
your  efforts,  and  to  erase  Excelsior  from  your  ban- 
ner. It  is  often  said  that  college  valedictorians  sel- 
dom run  an  illustrious  career.  The  statement  is 
false;  still  there  are  too  many  cases  in  which  a  young 
man  bends  all  his  energies  in  a  single  direction,  until 
the  day  of  graduation;  and,  thenceforth,  gives  him- 
self up  to  admiration  for  his  one  achievement.  But, 
while  he  is  engrossed  with  that  bright  memory,  his 
competitors,  forgetting  those  things  which  are  be- 
hind, and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are 
before,  lay  hold  upon  the  grander  prizes  of  life. 
Laurels  won  begin  to  wither  the  moment  that  they  en- 
circle the  brow.  The  world  has  little  use  for  him  who 
has  nothing  to  offer  but  the  faded  flowers  and  time- 
stained  cards,  which  testify  that  he  was  the  hero  of 
a  happy  day  in  the  long  ago. 

In  estimating  the  value  of  any  man,  you  need  to 
know  whether  there  is  material  in  him  to  carry  him  on 
to  a  certain  point  where  he  will  sit  down  to  enjoy  what 
he  has  gained,  or  whether  there  is  a  reserve  of  am- 
bition and  energy,  which  will  urge  him  forward  so 
long  as  life  shall  last.  In  carrying  on  any  enterprise, 
this  idea  is  highly  important  in  your  calculations. 
There  are  so  many  persons  who  do  fine  service  un- 
der conditions,  who  lose  momentum  the  instant  the 
conditions  are  removed.  How  often  a  business  firm 
has  been  disappointed  on  admitting  to  partnership 
a  subordinate  who  has  been  working  for  years  on 
probation.  His  fidelity  and  zeal  have  made  them- 
selves felt  in  all  directions.  But  now  that  he 
has  come  into  the  new  relation,  the  throb  in 
the  movement  of  affairs  disappears.  The  draught 
dies  away,  as  if  some  check  damper  had  been 


266  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

closed.  That  is  a  very  anxious  moment  when 
you  remove  any  special  pressure  which  has  been 
brought  to  bear  for  years.  You  hold  your  breath 
to  see  whether  the  ordeal  has  used  up  all  the  stuff 
that  there  was  in  him,  and  whether  he,  who  has 
hitherto  lived  in  anticipation,  will  now  begin  to  live 
in  memory;  or  whether  he  is  still  full  of  enterprise, 
so  that  the  present  attainment  will  be  an  incentive  to 
more  eager  endeavor.  That  is  a  rare  manager  of  any 
interest,  who  has  an  insight  which  guages  men  cor- 
rectly, knows  how  much  there  is  in  them,  can  calculate 
whether  the  supply  will  last  till  a  certain  date,  or  can 
discern  some  secret  fountain  which  will  flow  peren- 
nially. Alas  for  him  that  has  nothing  to  depend 
upon  but  spent  forces,  memories,  shadows  of  a  past, 
however  illustrious! 

Did  you  not  admire  the  spirit  of  Charles  Francis 
Adams,  who,  on  being  introduced  as  the  grand- 
son of  his  grandfather  and  the  son  of  his 
father,  made  a  graceful  bow  to  his  ancestors,  but 
declined  to  be  a  mere  voice  from  the  tombs.  I  have 
a  friend  whom  I  delight  to  introduce  as  the  nephew 
of  his  distinguished  uncle.  The  expression  of  his 
countenance  is  a  study.  It  seems  to  say:  Forget- 
ting those  things  that  are  behind,  I  reach  forth  to 
those  things  which  are  before. 

In  this  outline  of  what  we  should  train  ourselves  to 
forget,  I  have  incidentally  touched  upon  what  we 
should  remember.  There  are  failures  and  sins  to 
which  it  becomes  us  to  recur  from  time  to  time.  They 
are  such  as  give  us  salutary  warning,  point  out  dan- 
ger in  a  way  which  does  not  unman  us,  but  shows  us, 
with  the  peril,  the  method  of  escape.  Was  it  not 
the  defeat  at  Bunker  Hill  which  revealed  to  our 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  26  J 

forefathers  the  possibility  of  successful  resistance, 
and  gave  them  courage  to  publish  to  the  world  the 
Declaration  of  Independence?  So  the  Union  disas- 
ter at  Bull  Run,  settled  the  fall  of  the  Confederacy 
at  Richmond.  By  losing  many  a  hard-fought  battle, 
both  Peter  the  Great  and  Frederick  the  Great,  finally, 
learned  the  secret  of  all  their  conquests.  In  the 
long  struggle  for  emancipation  from  the  dominion 
of  sin,  it  is  wise  for  us  to  recall,  and  carefully  study 
those  transgressions  which  indicate  our  special  dan- 
gers, foster  that  humility  which  is  one  of  the  sources 
of  strength,  and  lead  us  to  cry  for  deliverance  to 
Him  who  is  mighty  to  save.  So  subtle  are  the  wiles 
of  the  Adversary  of  Souls  that  we  can  not  anticipate 
them  and  guard  ourselves  against  them,  unless  we 
take  experience  as  our  guide  and  interpreter.  The 
enemy  makes  us  an  individual  study,  and  lays  plots 
against  our  peculiar  weaknesses,  so  that  the  detec- 
tion of  these  plots  is  the  shortest  road  to  that  self- 
knowledge  so  essential  to  self-protection. 

As  we  look  backward,  and  see  the  pitfalls  into 
which  we  have  blindly  plunged,  we  are  able  to  look 
forward,  discover  the  treacherous  places  and  avoid 
similar  moral  disasters.  Such  memories  of  evil  are 
blessed.  Cling  to  the  recollection  of  every  experi- 
ence of  evil  which  waves  both  the  danger  signal  and 
the  flag  of  deliverance. 

Remember  victories ;  such  victories  as  inspire  the 
soul  to  still  more  splendid  achievements.  I  have 
dwelt  upon  the  danger  of  concentrating  the  energies 
upon  some  object,  and  relaxing  effort,  the  moment 
that  object  is  attained.  Suppose  that  a  minister 
should  decide  that  he  had  accumulated  a  supply  of 
sermons,  so  that  he  need  not  write  any  more.  The 


268  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

moment  that  he  began  to  fall  back  upon  that  old 
stock,  and  to  cease  production,  he  would  be- 
gin to  die,  as  a  mental  and  spiritual  force. 
What  would  be  your  feeling  if  you  should  call  a 
pastor,  and  should  afterward  see  him  sort  the  con- 
tents of  "the  barrel,"  and  hear  him  say  to  himself, 
that  he  should  not  have  to  do  anything  but  pastoral 
work  for  the  next  five  years?  The  prospect  of 
warmed-over  sermons  would  be  about  as  inviting  as 
the  prospect  of  warmed-over  victuals  for  the  same 
period.  Although  I  doubt  the  wisdom  and  am  a 
trifle  skeptical  about  the  sincerity  of  the  minister 
who,  on  assuming  a  new  charge,  assured  his  people 
that  in  looking  over  hundreds  of  manuscripts,  he 
had  concluded  that  there  were  not  half  a  dozen  dis- 
courses good  enough  to  preach  to  them;  still  it  spoke 
well  for  the  freshness  of  the  man's  ministrations,  and 
his  prospective  growth  in  breadth  and  depth  of 
thought.  The  most  commendable  course  would  be 
to  make  such  use  of  the  best  of  the  old,  as  would 
insure  time  and  strength  for  the  most  productive 
effort  in  the  new  field  of  labor.  If  one  has  been  en- 
gaged in  long  and  faithful  service,  he  will  have  gar- 
nered some  grain  which  should  not  be  thrown  away 
with  the  abundant  chaff.  That  kind  of  satisfaction 
with  past  achievements  which  encourages  indolence, 
is  one  thing.  That  which  invigorates  and  inspires 
for  more  enthusiastic  endeavor,  is  another.  The 
memory  of  the  best  that  we  have  done,  should  be  a 
revelation  of  still  better  things  to  do. 

You  will  come  short  of  your  noblest  possibilities, 
unless  you  learn  to  maintain  a  stout  heart  and  a 
steady  resolution,  by  the  frequent  recall  of  victories 
in  other  days. 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  269 

Do  you  say  that  this  will  be  to  surrender  to  mem- 
ory the  province  of  faith  ?  Do  you  say,  that  God  com- 
mands us  not  to  be  anxious  about  the  future,  that 
he  would  have  us  trust  him  to  carry  us  through 
whatever  may  be  in  store,  and  that  to  try  to  keep 
up  our  courage  by  bearing  in  mind  the  deliverances 
of  the  past,  is  to  substitute  a  human  device  for  the 
plan  of  God  ?  *  *  *  Your  position  is  untenable. 
You  are  not  asked,  to  substitute  memory  for  faith, 
but  to  press  memory  into  the  service  of  faith. 
Where,  in  the  Scriptures,  are  we  forbidden  to  em- 
ploy means  for  the  confirmation  of  faith  ?  Faith  is 
grounded  in  reason,  and  reason  depends  upon  mem- 
ory for  suggestion.  You  are  commanded,  to  trust 
God  for  the  future.  The  command  would  be  in 
itself  sufficient  ground  for  obedience.  But,  when 
events  in  your  life  reveal  the  hand  of  God,  can  you 
exhibit  any  more  reverent  and  acceptable  faith,  than 
by  saying  :  "Asthou,  O  my  Father,  didst  give  me 
the  victory  in  those  well  remembered  struggles  of 
the  past,  so  thou  wilt  lead  me  to  victory,  in  the  gath- 
ering conflicts  of  the  coming  years  ? 

There  is  in  this  no  element  of  offensive  self-suffi- 
ciency. -  It  is  a  grateful  recognition  cf  the  doctrine 
of  divine  and  human  co-operation.  Amid  the  fierce 
competitions  of  the  iQth  century,  which  render  men 
and  women  more  apprehensive  than  ever  about 
their  personal  success  or  failure,  it  becomes  us  to 
re-assure  our  anxious  hearts  from  experience,  in 
conjunction  with  Revelation.  The  unmistakable 
presence  of  God  with  us,  in  certain  emergencies  of 
the  past,  italicizes  and  emphasizes  the  promises  of 
His  presence  in  the  crises  of  the  future.  What 


270  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

greater  folly  than  to  throw  away   these  treasures  of 
precious  recollection  ! 

I  have  brought  out  so  fully  two  of  the  offices 
of  memory,  that  they  need  no  further  elucida- 
tion. Hearken  to  these  blended  voices  of  warning 
and  of  encouragement.  But  the  treatment  of  the 
subject  would  not  be  complete,  without  the  crown- 
ing recognition  of  the  union  of  memory  and  imagi- 
nation, in  the  transfiguration  of  life.  When  the  mind 
has  been  trained  to  examine  its  acquisitions,  one  by 
one;  to  discriminate  between  the  bad  and  the  good; 
to  throw  away  the  former  and  to  preserve  the  latter; 
it  is  prepared  to  furnish  the  imagination  with  the 
richest  materials  for  those  ideal  creations,  the  reali- 
zation of  which  exalts  character  and  glorifies  God. 
The  power  of  the  imagination  is  wonderful,  but  it  is 
not  absolute.  Though  her  magic  wand  sweeps  the 
universe,  memory  is  the  original  source  of  those  mar- 
velous manifestations.  Memory  might  have  per- 
formed her  essential  functions,  without  the  existence 
of  imagination,  but  imagination  could  never  have 
begun  her  ministrations  of  beauty  and  beneficence, 
without  first  receiving,  herself,  certain  endowments 
from  memory.  Imagination  creates.  She  creates, 
however,  primarily,  not  out  of  nothing  but  out  of 
something,  a  something  furnished  by  memory. 

Now,  it  is  obvious  that  the  finer  the  treasures 
which  memory  offers,  the  richer  will  be  the  ideal  of 
life  and  character  fashioned  by  the  imagination. 
Furthermore,  though  we  always  fail  in  the  full  real- 
ization of  the  ideal,  we  are,  or  are  in  the  process  of 
becoming,  essentially,  what  the  ideal  requires. 
When,  then,  the  imagination  receives  such  winnowed 
recollections  as  have  been  brought  to  view  in  this 


MEMORY  AND   IMAGINATION.  271 

discourse,  and  expands  them,  and  exalts  them,  and 
floods  them  with  splendor,  till,  beyond  us  and  above 
us,  the  distance  is  filled  with  forms  of  light,  that 
smile  and  beckon  and  entrance  with  song,  the  past 
loses  bulk  and  substance  and  outline  and  color,  and 
vanishes  away.  Meanwhile,  the  future  is,  little  by 
little,  cleared  of  blank  misgivings.  There  is  a  reve- 
lation of  shining  possibilities,  possibilities,  which  at 
first  seem  too  far  away,  too  ethereal. 

But,  presently,  you  feel  that  ,this  is  not  a  mocking 
vision,  that  it  is  the  ideal  of  what  even  you,  may  be, 
should  be,  must  be.  The  creative  imagination  has 
discharged  her  noblest  office.  Taking  your  best 
attainments  of  other  days,  respecting  your  individu- 
ality, guided  by  your  personal  peculiarities,  she  has 
fashioned  an  ideal  adapted  to  your  capabilities,  so 
that  you  may  recognize  a  certain  kinship  to  the  real. 
At  the  same  time,  she  has  so  magnified  and  transfig- 
ured every  excellence,  that,  catching  the  inspiration 
of  the  promise  and  the  prophecy,  you  are  ready  to 
exclaim  with  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Apostle  :  "  For- 
getting those  things  that  are  behind,  I  reach  forth 
unto  those  things  that  are  before." 


REDEEMING    THE    TIME. 

"  See,  then,  that  ye  walk  circumspectly,  not  as  fools,  but  as 
wise,  redeeming  the  lime,  because  the  days  are  evil. — Ephe- 
sians  v:  15,  16. 

The  literal  meaning  of  circumspection  is,  looking 
around.  According  to  the  text,  there  may  be  a  fool- 
ish circumspection  and  a  wise  circumspection.  Solo- 
mon says  that  the  eyes  of  a  fool  are  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  Such  looking  around  encircles  the  round  world. 
It  belts  the  planet  in  its  favorite  quest.  That  quest  is 
for  all  manner  of  illegitimate  gratifications.  Against 
such  a  course,  the  apostle  first  puts  mankind  on  their 
guard.  The  fool's  circumspection  often  seeks  sensual 
pleasures,  as  the  chief  end  of  life.  The  pursuit  may  for 
a  time  be  successful,  but  satiety  finally  sets  in,  and 
the  bodily  organs  themselves  lose  responsive  power. 
The  delights  of  the  senses  are  not  to  be  contemned. 
When  moderated,  kept  incidental,  and  regulated  by 
the  rights  of  the  individual  and  of  society,  they  pro- 
mote health  and  happiness,  even  down  *to  old  age. 
But  the  fool,  in  his  all-absorbing  eagerness  to  grat- 
ify appetite  and  passion,  defeats  himself.  There  can 
be  no  more  pitiful  and  loathsome  sight,  than  that  of 
a  worn-out  debauchee,  consumed  by  cravings,  which 
he  is  impotent  to  satisfy. 

Or  the  passion  may  be  for  mere  money-making; 
years  may  only  add  to  its  intensity.  The  chuckle  of 
the  miser  is  heartiest  at  four  score.  But  he  is  at  last 
smitten  with  the  paralysis  of  the  words:  "What 
shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and 


REDEEMING   THE   TIME. 


273 


lose   himself?"     "Thou    fool,   this    night  thy   soul 
shall  be  required  of  thee.  " 

Is  the  same  word  too  severe  to  apply  to  such  as 
scheme  through  life  for  political  preferment?  What 
has  been  the  testimony  of  those  who,  like  Webster 
and  Clay,  have  trod  the  high  places  of  power,  con- 
cerning the  hollowness  of  their  careers?  In  view  of 
these  facts,  what  shall  we  say  of  the  spectacle  of  two 
old  men,  whose  average  age  is  more  than  the  three 
score  and  ten  allotted  to  mortals,  anxiously  watch- 
ing the  result  of  the  balloting  at  Springfield,  week 
after  week?  We  respect  both  too  highly,  for  other 
reasons,  to  call  them  fools,  but  is  it  not  a  somewhat 
foolish  thing,  to  try  so  feverishly  to  snatch  one  more 
honor,  just  beneath  the  scythe  which  Old  Time  is 
swinging  around  to  cut  them  down?  If  this  be  true  of 
those  who  strive  for  so  glittering  a  prize  as  a  sena- 
torship,  how  ridiculous  is  the  circumspection  which 
is  on  the  lookout,  year  by  year,  for  ten  thousand 
petty  offices  throughout  the  land. 

Other  kinds  of  foolish  circumspection  might  be 
enumerated,  but  these  are  typical  and  will  suffice. 

We  study  next  the  circumspection  which  the  apos- 
tle commends  as  wise.  It  is  that  which  "  redeems 
the  time,"  that  which  wrests  time  from  ignoble  uses 
and  devotes  it  to  the  noblest  purposes.  The  search 
will  reveal  things  to  be  avoided,  ^and  things  to  be 
pursued.  There  are  many  practices,  harmless  in 
themselves,  which  a  wise  man  cannot  afford. 

Various  amusements  might  be  specified.  Billiards, 
chess  and  whist  may  be  grouped  together,  as  games 
which  are  sometimes  wholesome  in  their  influence. 
The  first  develops  physical  dexterity  and  mental 
concentration.  So  far,  it  may  be  considered  a  bene- 


.274  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

ficial  recreation.  Chess  and  whist,  also,  combine  at- 
tention and  study,  with  sufficient  of  uncertainty  to 
give  them  zest.  So- far  as  the  three  are  played  with- 
out stakes,  and  with  a  moderation  which  robs  neith- 
er regular  work,  nor  more  invigorating  out-door 
diversions,  they  may  be  justified.  But  the  moment 
that  any  one  of  them  becomes  an  infatuation  to  the 
player,  it  also  becomes  one  of  the  things  which  he 
can  no  longer  afford.  Such  infatuation,  however, 
is  so  exceptional,  that  these  games  do  not  deserve 
the  sweeping  condemnation  which  they  often  receive. 
Good  morals  will  be  best  subserved  by  discrimina- 
ting. Billiards  is  the  most  dangerous  of  the  group, 
because  of  its  common  associations.  Billiard  tables 
in  a  private  house,  or  in  a  college  gymnasium,  with 
no  liquors  near,  seldom  do  any  damage,  after  the 
novelty  has  ceased.  They  work  their  own  cure.  It 
goes  without  saying,  that  whist  parties,  with  wines 
and  late  hours,  are  an  abomination.  The  inveterate 
chess  player  is  so  rare  an  exception,  that  he  hardly 
deserves  to  be  held  up  as  a  warning. 

The  more  common  games  of  cards  fall  into  anoth- 
er group.  They  call  the  intellect  into  action  less, 
and  arouse  the  sensibilities  more.  For  this  reason 
they  are  more  likely  to  run  to  excess.  The  element 
of  chance  in  them  is  always  an  exciting  element. 
Experience  clearly  proves,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to 
secure  moderation.  A  soldier  in  a  frontier  fort, 
without  books,  and  without  anything  better  to  busy 
mind  and  body  with,  would  be  excusable  for  whil- 
ing  away  the  heavy  hours  at  euchre.  If  Robinson 
Crusoe  and  his  man  Friday  should  every  day  try  to 
relieve  thus  the  desolation  of  their  island  life,  the 
recording  angel  would  not  write  it  down  against 


REDEEMING   THE   TIME.  275 

them.  But  card  playing  is  a  practice  which  a  college 
student  cannot  afford.  The  principal  reason  is  the 
fearful  waste  of  time  which  should  be  devoted  to 
other  purposes,  to  games  that  invigorate  and  build 
up  the  body,  and  to  studies  that  strengthen  mind 
and  make  manhood.  This  is  not  Puritanism,  or 
cant,  or  superstition,  or  old-fogyism.  It  is  a  direct 
appeal  to  your  personal  observation.  It  is  the  stand- 
ing case  of  paste-boards  versus  books.  The  two 
cannot  be  reconciled.  I  call  upon  Crampton  Hall 
yonder  to  be  my  witness.  There  is  in  our  institu- 
tions of  learning  no  other  practice,  which  so  gener- 
ally lowers  the  recitation  grade,  as  this  widespread 
practice  of  card  playing.  Gentlemen,  redeem  from 
this  your  time,  as  you  prize  scholarship. 

Apply  the  same  general  principle  to  the  dance 
and  the  theatre.  Do  not  split  hairs  in  trying  to  de- 
cide about  the  right  and  wrong  in  the  amusements 
themselves.  Simply  ask  yourself  what,  not  as  fools, 
but  as  wise,  you  can  afford.  Make  your  own  rules, 
in  view  of  what  you  owe  to  yourselves  and  to  others. 
Do  not  try  to  escape  this  discipline  in  life,  by  asking 
somebody  else  to  formulate  a  code  of  laws,  with  a 
specific  "thou  shalt,"  or  "thou  shalt  not,"  for  every 
'case.  You  certainly  cannot  afford  anything  which 
will  corrupt  your  imagination,  or  lower  your  moral 
tone,  or  waste  your  energies,  or  lead  others  into 
peril.  Circumspection  will  soon  settle  the  tendency 
of  such  practices,  and  that  tendency  will  soon  settle 
the  question  of  obligation.  Most  beneficial  is  the 
moral  thoughtfulness  produced  by  a  personal  re- 
view of  all  these  debatable  subjects,  and  the  decision 
of  your  duty  in  the  premises. 

Be  circumspect  in  companionships.     There  are  associ- 


276  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ations  which  you  cannot  afford.  You  owe  much  in 
the  way  of  service  to  those  who  are  degraded  in 
rank  and  character.  You  are  not  at  liberty  to  ex- 
clude them  from  your  presence,  but  you  must  seek 
them,  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  lifting  them  to 
a  higher  level.  That  purpose  will  be  your  personal 
safeguard.  But  it  is  a  very  different  thing  when  you 
court  their  society,  simply  because  you  find  there 
certain  fascinating  evil  traits,  which  derive  their 
charm  from  a  curious  blending  of  good  and  bad. 
There  is  a  strange  infatuation  on  the  part  of  many, 
who  do  not  intend  to  give  up  their  moral  principles, 
in  hovering  around  others,  who  are  known  to  be  not 
quite  reputable  characters.  It  is  like  the  disposition 
of  boys  to  skate  around  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  see 
how  near  they  can  go  without  getting  in.  Like  the 
boys,  they  never  give  it  up  till  they  do  get  in.  It  is 
marvelous  how  much  moral  exposure  a  man  can 
meet  without  harm,  in  labors  of  love.  He  is  like 
the  physician, who  moves  about  securely  inthe  midst 
of  all  manner  of  contagious  diseases.  But  let  him 
abandon  his  benevolent  purpose  and,  somehow,  he 
will  be  as  susceptible  as  any  to  contamination.  There 
is  in  the  minds  of  many  who  do  not  intend  ever  to 
cross  the  bounds  of  propriety,  a  prurient  curiosity 
about  some  forms  of  vice.  They  conjecture  about 
such  shapes  of  evil,  and  dally  with  them  in  imagina- 
tion, till  those  shapes  of  darkness  seems  almost 
shapes  of  light.  To  those  of  this  disposition,  one 
who  has  seen  a  little  more  of  this  wicked  world,  but 
who  has  not  yet  become  gross  and  repulsive,  is  in- 
vested with  special  charms.  He  has  had  experience 
from  which  they  half-shrink,  and  to  which  they  are 
half-attracted.  They  would  like,  at  least,  to  listen 


REDEEMING  THE   TIME.  277 

to  his  talk,  and  to  learn  somewhat  more  without 
much  personal  peril.  This  flatters  the  object  of  their 
admiration.  He  serves  up  in  seductive  style  what 
facts  he  has,  and  supplies  from  his  imagination  what- 
ever may  be  lacking,  to  gratify  the  eager  listener. 
And  it  is  not  long  before  the  latter  finds  his  better 
purposes  relaxing,  and  his  passions  sweeping  him  on 
into  sin.  Dickens  is  a  master  in  depicting  the  way 
in  which  the  inexperienced  lad  is  thus  corrupted  by 
one  who  is  a  little  older  in  vice,  but  who  retains  so 
much  of  the  fairness  of  earlier  life,  that  he  does  not 
startle  and  repel  the  other,  by  outrageous  immorali- 
ties. Your  heart  is  moved  with  compassion  toward 
both.  The  older  has  many  lovable  traits.  He  has 
no  set  purpose  to  ruin  his  associate.  He  would  hon- 
estly resent  any  such  charge.  He  is  mainly  influ- 
enced by  a  passion  to  pose  as  a  man  of  the  world 
before  the  younger,  whose  open-eyed,  open-mouthed 
wonder  is  such  sweet  incense  to  vanity.  You  feel 
that,  though  he  is  culpable,  he  is  not  totally  depraved, 
and  you  are  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed  to  convince 
him  of  the  damage  which  he  is  doing  to  his  com- 
panion. If  you  turn  to  the  latter  and  try  to  put  him 
on  his  guard,  he  can  scarcely  realize  that  his  curiosity 
is  perilous,  or  be  made  to  believe  that  his  associate 
is  chargeable  with  moral  ugliness.  Now,  if  any  of 
you  younger  lads  are  forming  intimacies  of  this  sort, 
believe  me  you  are  doing  what  you  cannot  afford. 
Be  circumspect,  not  as  fools,  but  as  wise.  Redeem 
your  time  from  this  fascinating,  but  ruinous  com- 
panionship. 

Be  circumspect  in  your  reading.  Redeem  your  time 
from  many  books  and  papers,  for  these  days  are  evil 
in  temptations  of  this  description.  Without  any 


278  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES 

sympathy  with  the  cry  of  the  "good,  old  times,"  it 
must,  nevertheless,  be  admitted  that  there  was  never 
before  a  period  when  the  perils  in  print  were  so  nu- 
merous and  attractive.  It  is  stated,  and  I  suppose 
correctly,  that,  by  some  perversity  in  our  postal  laws, 
in  connection  with  certain  publishers,  Zola's  novels, 
the  most  corrupting  of  their  kind,  are  carried  in  the 
United  States  mails  at  one  cent  a  pound,  while  Bibles, 
histories  and  scientific  treatises  are  carried  at  the 
rate  of  eight  cents  a  pound.  I  need  not  repeat  what 
has  been  said  before,  this  year,  concerning  the  pesti- 
lential nature  of  the  French  realistic  school  of  fic- 
tion. There  is  probably  very  little  of  this  vile  stuff 
in  circulation  in  this  vicinity.  One  such  book  in  a  com- 
munity is  just  onebook  too  many.  But,  besides  publi- 
cations of  this  description,  which  are  outlawed  in 
decent  society,  there  are  others  which  wear  a  semi- 
respectable  guise,  receive  a  sort  of  endorsement 
from  the  literary  world,  and  so  find  their  way  into 
the  hands  of  multitudes,  who  are  damaged  by  their 
perusal.  Time  is  wasted,  but  that  is  not  the  worst. 
The  imagination  is  subjected  to  an  unhealthy  strain, 
literary  taste  is  perverted,  discontent  at  common  ex- 
perience is  engendered,  and  a  morbid  state  of  the 
sensibilities  becomes  the  chronic  malady  of  the  reader. 
"  Be  circumspect."  Put  all  such  reading  into  the  list 
of  things  which  you  cannot  afford.  Moreover,  in 
the  highest  and  best  range  of  fiction,  there  is  con- 
stant danger  of  excess.  To-day,  ten  of  you  are  suf- 
fering from  too  many  good  novels,  where  one  is  suf- 
fering from  their  lack.  Most  of  you  break  the  law 
of  proportion,  and  give  to  fiction  what  ought  to  be 
devoted  to  biography,  history,  poetry,  essays,  and 
scientific  and  philosophical  treatises. 


REDEEMING   THE   TIME. 


279 


Again,  the  modern  newspaper  is  a  combined  bless- 
ing and  temptation.  It  has  become  a  necessary  of 
life.  Still,  with  all  its  rich  miscellany  of  informa- 
tion, who  is  there  that  does  not  waste  precious  hours 
in  skimming  material  which  is  worse  than  useless 
to  himself,  and  to  the  interests  which  he  is  put  into 
this  world  to  promote.  Procrastination  must  give 
way  to  the  newspaper  as  the  "thief  of  time."  Memory 
is  enfeebled.  The  power  of  concentrated  and  con- 
secutive thought  is  dissipated.  Verily,  the  days  are 
evil. 

Such  are  some  of  the  loudest  calls  for  circumspec- 
tion. I  have  indicated  in  the  way  of  amusements,  com- 
panionships, and  reading,  a  summary  of  the  things 
which  you  cannot  afford.  Redeem  from  these  your 
time,  and  devote  it  resolutely  to  the  pursuits  which 
should  engross  attention. 

We  profess  to  be  students,  but  how  tew  of  us  know 
what  hard  study  means?  We  may  spend  time  enough 
over  open  books,  and  try  to  dignify  that  as  study. 
Does  it,  however,  deserve  the  name?  An  hour  of 
fixed  attention  is  worth  more  than  a  day  of  dawdling. 
Oh,  the  listlessness  and  mental  vacuity,  which  we 
call  "search  after  truth!"  There  is  plenty  of  literal 
"  circumspection,"  that  foolish  looking  around,  first 
mentioned  in  the  text.  But  how  few  of  us  know 
what  Newton  meant,  when  he  said:  "I  keep  the 
subject  constantly  before  me,  and  wait  until  the  first 
dawnings  open  slowly,  little  by  little,  into  a  full  and 
clear  light."  Bulwer  made  it  a  rule  not  to  study 
more  than  three  hours  in  the  twenty-four,  but  that 
long  shelf  of  volumes  from  his  pen,  shows  what  he 
meant  by  study.  Dickens  is  often  supposed  to  have 
been  a  genius  above  all  drudgery.  But  he  declared 


280  SERMONS   AND  ADDKESSES. 

rigid  attention  to  be  the  secret  of  his  success.  Said 
he:  "  It  is  the  one  serviceable,  safe,  remunerative, 
attainable  quality,  in  every  study  and  every  pursuit. 
My  own  imagination  or  invention,  such  as  it  is,  I  can 
most  truthfully  assure  you,  would  never  have  served 
me  as  it  has,  but  for  the  habit  of  common-place, 
humble,  patient,  daily,  toiling,  drudging  attention." 
Gentlemen,  genius  and  talent  and  mediocrity  are 
under  the  same  law.  If  you  leave  college  without 
having  acquired  this  power  of  concentrating  thought, 
your  years  spent  here  will  be  of  little  value.  The 
small  fund  of  miscellaneous  information  which  you 
may  have  picked  up  in  a  desultory  way  in  the  class- 
room, in  conversation  and  in  rubbing  against  books, 
will  only  make  your  weakness  conspicuous  in  the 
competitions  of  life.  But,  if  you  have  acquired  this 
power  of  concentration,  it  is  of  comparatively  little 
consequence  how  scanty  are  your  acquisitions  of 
facts,  how  limited  your  range  of  general  reading, 
how  few  opportunites  you  have  had  for  travel,  and  a 
knowledge  of  men  and  affairs.  You  possess  the 
open  secret  of  success,  wherever  your  lot  may  be 
cast.  You  can  utilize  facts,  you  can  turn  books  to 
account,  you  can  quickly  master  a  knowledge  of  men 
and  affairs. 

And  now,  redeem  time  for  eternity.  We  have  thus 
far  laid  the  stress  on  that  which  pertains  to  the 
earthly  life.  But  do  not,  I  beseech  you,  confine  this 
intense  thought  to  these  winged  years.  Never  before 
have  the  days  been  so  good,  and,  also,  so  evil.  The 
last  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  the  most  in- 
spiring decade  in  human  history.  There  was  never 
such  zest  in  existence  as  in  this  Columbian  period. 
What  expectations  gather  round  the  coming  months! 


REDEEMING   THE   TIME.  28 1 

But  do  not  our  anticipations  of  the  glory  of  the  city 
by  the  lake,  drive  from  mind  anticipations  of  the 
glory  of  the  city  by  the  Sea  of  Glass.  Enthusiasm 
in  temporal  affairs  is  laudable,  but  such  absorption 
in  them  grows  perilous.  Mortality  obscures  immor- 
tality. But  what  is  this  momentary  throb,  however 
ecstatic,  compared  with  the  power  of  an  endless  life? 
When  the  twenty-first  century  breaks,  of  what  conse- 
quence to  a  single  soul  here,  will  all  this  fine  fleet- 
ing show  be,  except  as  it  has  told  upon  our  des- 
tiny, amid  yonder  invisible  scenes,  which  are  eter- 
nal !  Yet  this  is  the  despair  of  the  preacher,  his  in- 
ability to  make  vivid  that  which  everybody  knows  is 
inevitable  within  a  hundred  years.  The  cry  of  a 
child,  the  bark  of  a  dog,  the  dip  of  a  sparrow's  wing, 
will  dissipate  the  most  attentive  seriousness  in  a  most 
earnest  discourse,  concerning  the  issues  of  life  and 
death  eternal.  Is  it  too  much  then,  to  declare  these 
entrancing  days  EVIL,  when  they  lead  us  to  jeopard- 
ize most  precious  interests  of  infinite  duration?  A 
student,  above  all  others,  should  naturally  be  per- 
sistently thoughtful,  on  these  higher  themes.  His 
daily  training  tends  to  foster  in  him  the  habit  of  dis- 
regarding present  ease  and  immediate  results, 
for  distant  good.  All  this  undergraduate  toil,  looks 
to  post-graduate  achievement.  Why  can  we  not 
lengthen  the  radius,  iill  we  fetch  within  our  compass 
somewhat  of  the  life  beyond  the  grave?  O  lads  and 
young  men,  check  your  giddiness,  check  your  de- 
votion to  the  shams  and  shows  of  Vanity  Fair,  moder- 
ate your  absorbing  pursuit  of  whatsoever  perisheth, 
be  circumspect;  look  around,  away  around,  make  the  cir- 
cle big.  You  cannot  put  a  girdle  about  eternity,  but 
you  may  take  in  so  much  thereof,  that  this  little  life 


282  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

which  is  "rounded  with  a  sleep,"  shall  seem  very 
petty,  yea,  utterly  contemptible;  except  as  the  deeds 
done  therein,  settle  your  destiny  forever.  Oh,  redeem 
the  time,  REDEEM  THE  TIME  ! 


KEEPING    THE    GOOD    WINE. 

"Every  man,  at  the  beginning,  doth  set  forth  good  wine; 
and,  when  men  have  well  drunk,  then  that  which  is  worse:  but 
thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now." — John  ii:  10. 

It  is  a  common  characteristic  of  human  nature  to 
set  forth  the  best  first.  You  need  not  travel  far  for 
an  illustration.  How  many  sermons  disappoint  you 
in  this  very  way?  The  exordium  is  mellow  wine,  the 
peroration,  "that  which  is  worse." 

The  principle  is  sound  for  the  festal  board,  but 
false  when  applied  to  mental  and  spiritual  gratifica- 
tion. Yet  multitudes  of  speakers  follow  it,  although 
they  know  that  in  so  doing,  they  violate  the  law  of 
climax,  which  is  one  of  the  plainest  rules  both  of 
common  and  of  sacred  rhetoric.  You  often  listen, 
with  interest,  to  the  first  ten  minutes  of  a  discourse; 
then  attention  relaxes,  and  the  faculties  grow  drowsy, 
or  take  wing  to  and  fro  through  space.  Sometimes, 
you  alone  are  to  blame.  Sometimes,  the  minister*  is 
chiefly  in  fault.  If  you  go  to  church  from  mere  habit, 
indifferent,  expecting  to  sleep,  or  to  give  yourself  to 
day-dreaming,  do  not  seek  to  throw  the  responsibility 
upon  anybody  else.  If,  however,  you  are  there  with 
ears  to  hear,  if  you  listen  readily  for  awhile,  and 
then  find  yourself  yielding  to  a  mesmeric  spell,  or 
wandering  aimlessly  in  your  thoughts,  it  is  likely 
that  the  speaker  has  exhausted  his  good  wine,  and  is 
giving  you  something  cheaper.  This  was  the  worst 
defect  in  one  of  the  most  suggestive  sermonizers  that 
I  ever  heard.  He  seldom  failed  to  have  good  wine 
in  the  first  half  of  his  discourse,  but  he  was  so  prod- 


284  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

igal  of  it  at  the  outset,  that  he  often  left  you  dissat- 
isfied, at  the  conclusion.  The  reason  lay  upon  the 
surface.  His  most  vigorous  ideas  on  a  subject 
would  flash  upon  him  in  the  beginning.  He  would 
dash  those  off  with  tremendous  energy,  and  exhaust 
his  vigor,  before  he  had  reached  the  ordinary  sermon 
limit.  Instead  of  having  the  end  in  view  from  the 
start,  he  wasted  his  reserve.  If  such  a  speaker  would 
give  you  his  thoughts,  in  very  nearly  the  reverse 
order,  you  would  receive  them  all  with  steadily  in- ' 
creasing  interest,  and  the  final  impression  would  be 
profound  and  lasting. 

But  do  not  suppose  that  the  gospel  of  Christ  is  to 
be  hampered  by  rhetorical  forms.  I  have  in  mind 
another  minister,  whose  sermons  all  seemed  to  be 
written  with  more  reference  to  a  particular  text  book 
than  to  the  New  Testament  itself.  As  a  consequence, 
they  were  artificial,  unimpassioned  homilies,  correct 
in  syntax,  but  utterly  unfit  to  touch  the  heart  and 
change  the  life.  If  we  must  have  either  this  style  or 
the  other,  the  other  would  be  preferable.  Good 
wine  only  at  the  beginning,  would  be  better  than 
wine  diluted  all  the  time,  though  it  might  improve 
somewhat  toward  the  last.  Still,  the  best  for  the 
close,  is  the  rule  which  your  taste  approves. 

Again,  you  will  often  see  the  temptation  to  strike 
twelve,  first,  illustrated  in  book-making,  and  that 
too,  in  authors  whom  you  would  suppose  too  wise  to 
yield.  I  had  not  read  Washington  Irving  much  for 
twenty  years,  but,  some  time  ago,  I  thought  that  I 
would  renew  his  acquaintance.  And  so  I  got  his 
masterpiece  of  humor,  Knickerbocker's  New  York 
The  first  third  proved  a  sparkling  delight,  brimming 
over  with  quaint  conceits,  the  rest,  so  much  flat 


KEEPING    THE   GOOD    WINE.  285 

champagne.  The  secret  of  the  most  successful  com- 
position is,  to  catch  attention  in  the  initial  chapter, 
and  yet  save  that  which  is  richest  for  the  conclusion. 
The  intellectual  palate  is  not  satisfied  without  a 
dessert  to  crown  the  repast. 

Leo  employed  Leonardo  to  put  a  grand  historic 
scene  upon  canvas.  The  artist  immediately  set  about 
preparing  his  finishing  varnish.  The  pontiff,  de- 
serted by  his  usual  shrewdness,  was  vexed  at  the 
sight,  and  exclaimed,  that  nothing  could  be  expected 
of  a  man  who  began  where  he  ought  to  leave  off. 
Yet  the  painter  understood  his  art  all  the  time,  better 
than  did  the  pope. 

Pass,  next,  to  society.  What  is  your  experience? 
In  dealing  with  your  ordinary  acquaintances,  do  you 
not  find  that  they  bring  out  the  best,  first?  Almost 
everybody  fits  up  a  show-window,  in  the  secret  hope 
that  people  will  admire  that,  without  prying  into  the 
back  room.  There  is  in  the  world  an  infinite  deal  of 
fine  acting  which  never  comes  upon  the  theatre 
boards. 

Two  strangers  meet,  and,  as  a  rule,  each  will  try 
to  make  upon  the  other  a  favorable  impression. 
Each  will  take  pains  to  exhibit  his  more  attractive 
qualities,  and  to  hide  whatever  is  repellant.  When 
they  part,  it  will  be  with  a  higher  mutual  estimate 
than  facts  would  justify.  No  harm  is  done.  Indeed, 
it  is  better  for  society  in  general,  that  its  members 
should  make  some  little  effort  to  win  one  another's 
regard,  by  displaying  the  agreeable  in  the  fore- 
ground, and  keeping  the  disagreeable  in  the  back- 
ground. Even  thus,  we  shall  find  out  enough  that  is 
bad,  enough  to  put  us  out  of  conceit  with  human 
nature. 


286  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

There  is  always  prevalent  in  the  community,  a 
spirit  of  detraction,  which  will  see  to  it  that  no  in- 
dividual shall  get  more  credit  than  he  deserves.  If 
you  succeed  in  putting  yourself  a  little  above  par  with 
an  acquaintance,  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  meet 
some  mutual  acquaintance  who  will  discount  that 
over-estimate,  so  that,  in  the  end,  you  will  pass  for  no 
more  than  you  are  worth.  Society  is  a  self-con- 
stituted board  of  equalization,  which,  in  general, 
settles  quite  fairly  the  value  ot  all.  It  is  amusing,  to 
watch  this  play  and  counter  play,  to  see  the  individ- 
ual busy  with  his  fine  self-parade,  airing  his  ex- 
cellencies, and  making  his  handsomest  bow,  this  way 
and  that,  to  the  passer-by,  while  society,  behind  his 
back,  quietly  jots  down  his  short-comings,  his  half- 
hidden  meannesses,  his  unconscious  vanities,  and 
spreads  all  upon  the  record,  for  the  world  to  read. 

Bring  the  same  idea  to  bear  upon  the  smaller  circle 
of  friendship  and  intimacy.  Recall  the  lessons 
taught.  All  your  life,  your  soul  has  been  reaching 
out  and  trying  to  cling  to  other  souls.  In  some  in- 
stances, it  has  not  been  deceived;  but,  in  too  many 
cases,  it  has  been  finally  driven  back  in  disappoint- 
ment upon  itself.  You  have  repeatedly  said  to  your- 
self, I  have  at  length  found  the  friend  whom  I  have 
so  long  sought  in  vain.  This  one  will  be  to  me  as 
David  to  Jonathan.  He  will  sympathize  with  me  in 
my  aspirations,  counsel  me  in  perplexity,  help  me  in 
trouble,  stand  by  me  in  peril,  cherish  my  good  name 
as  his  own,  dispute  the  whispers  of  calumny,  watch 
over  my  interests,  plan  for  my  advancement,  tell  me 
lovingly  of  my  faults,  be  quick  to  encourage  ex- 
cellencies, and  rejoice  in  my  successes,  as  if  they  were 
his  own.  I  can  read  all  these  things,  in  our  first  in- 


KEEPING   THE   GOOD   WINE.  287 

terview.  For  awhile,  anticipations  seem  realized,  but, 
some  day,  you  tell  him  whatever  is  in  your  heart,  you 
keep  back  no  fear,  desire,  hope.  There  is  a  moment's 
pause,  and  then,  though  the  response  is,  in  form, 
satisfactory,  your  intuitions  tell  you  that  there  is 
something  lacking.  You  miss  you  know  not  what. 
You  wish  that  you  had  not  gone  so  fast;  that  you 
had  not  said  so  much.  You  have  given  more  than 
you  receive.  It  is  in  the  exchange  of  that  which 
pertains  to  this  inner  life,  that  the  soul  feels  bitterest 
about  being  cheated. 

Or,  again,  it  may  be  that  in  your  day  of  disaster, 
you  look  that  way  for  comfort  and  an  uplifting 
hand,  and  you  receive  only  such  stereotyped  words 
of  condolence  as  are  kept  in  stock,  ready-made  for 
any  applicant;  while  aid  is  given  in  a  mechanical, 
perfunctory  fashion,  which  hurts  more  than  it  heals. 
Or  you  learn  that  when  your  good  name  was  assailed, 
your  supposed  friend  simply  said  nothing,  because 
he  lacked  courage  to  face  abuse,  and  thus,  by  his 
silence,  helped  on  the  calumny.  Or,  perhaps,  at 
some  turning  point  in  your  history,  when  he  might 
have  done  you  invaluable  service,  he  failed  to  do  so, 
simply  because  he  did  not  think  of  it,  and  you  know 
that  he  would  have  thought  of  it,  had  he  been  what 
you  supposed.  Or  you  hear  of  his  mentioning  to 
others  those  faults  in  you,  the  existence  of  which  he 
has  never  so  much  as  hinted  to  you,  faults  which  he 
ought  to  have  put  kindly,  but  plainly  before  you,  in 
some  hour  of  sacred  confidence.  In  the  same  con- 
nection, you  notice  a  puzzling  reticence  about  letting 
you  know  that  there  are  in  you  growing  excellencies 
in  manhood,  that  your  work  in  life  is  gaining  in 
weight  and  bulk,  or  that,  if  not  increasing  in  quantity, 


288  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

it  is  taking  on  a  finer  and  more  spiritual  quality, 
year  by  year.  Moreover,  when  you  go  to  him  in- 
genuously and  impulsively,  with  some  little  triumph, 
supposing  that  of  course  your  joy  will  be  his  joy, 
there  is  just  a  half-perceptible  coldness,  which 
sweeps  over  you  like  an  ague  chill,  and  sets  you  to 
calling  yourself  a  fool,  for  not  keeping  your  thoughts 
at  home.  Now,  how  came  you  to  get  into  such 
trouble?  How  did  that  man  secure  your  unlimited 
confidence?  The  text  guides  to  the  secret.  When 
he  met  you,  he  set  forth  his  good  wine  first.  You 
took  it  eagerly.  It  intoxicated  your  senses.  You 
thought  that  a  fair  sample  of  an  exhaustless  stock  in 
store.  You  gave  yourself  up  to  the  delusion,  which 
was  delightful  enough,  till  the  day  of  revelation. 

Now,  consider  the  contrast  in  our  experience  with 
Christ.  He  furnishes  the  best  for  the  last.  There 
are  believers,  who  are  always  sighing,  and  singing: 

"  Where  is  the  blessedness  I  knew, 
When  first  I  saw  the  Lord?" 

But  reasons  are  not  difficult  to  find.  In  these  in- 
stances, the  emotional  nature  is  predominant.  The 
transition  from  death  to  life  is  attended  by  a  convul- 
sion of  feeling,  which  makes  a  profound  impression 
upon  the  individual.  He  recurs  to  it,  and  magnifies 
it  as  the  crisis  of  destiny.  He  belittles  everything 
else  in  comparison.  He  depreciates  the  gradual  un- 
folding of  Christian  truth,  and  the  steady  develop- 
ment of  religious  character,  till,  in  time,  the  couplet 
quoted  is  an  accurate  transcript  of  his  inner  life. 
The  longer  he  perseveres  in  this  habit  of  contrasting 
all  else  with  the  vivid  experience  of  the  hour  of  con- 
version, the  less  likely  is  he  to  become  a  useful,  ag- 


KEEPING    THE   GOOD  WINE.  289 

gressive  Christian.  Both  saints  and  sinners  weary 
of  one  who  can  do  nothing  but  wring  his  hands,  and 
bewail  an  enthusiasm  which  was  born  and  buried  on 
the  day  of  regeneration.  They  feel  that  spiritual 
infancy  should  put  off  its  swaddling  bands,  and  grow 
toward  'fullness  of  stature  in  Jesus. 

A  clear  and  dazzling  view  of  the  Redeemer's  love, 
in  conversion,  is  an  occasion  for  thanksgiving, 
provided  it  does  not  blind  the  soul  to  future  displays 
of  the  Savior's  infinite  grace,  and  hinder  the  indi- 
vidual in  the  practical  manifestations  of  a  religious 
life.  You  see,  now  and  then,  a  Christian,  who,  like 
Lot's  wife,  is  always  looking  back  at  that  from 
which  he  escaped.  Such  a  one  may  become  a  pillar 
of  salt,  but  it  is  by  no  means  that  salt  of  the  earth 
which  the  Master  desires.  It  is  savourless,  worthless 
for  his  uses  among  men. 

There  is  a  much  more  wholesome  conception  of 
religion.  What  takes  place  when  the  heart  is  given  to 
God  should  arrest  attention,  but  not  bring  us  to  a  halt 
there,  in  wonder  at  its  happening  and  in  regret  that 
it  cannot  be  repeated.  Suppose  that  we  may  never 
have  again  the  same  spiritual  sensations,  that  is  no 
indication  that  there  is  nothing  better  in  store. 
Christ  would  never  intoxicate  the  soul  with  bliss 
and  forever  after  give  it  poor  wine.  He  may  let  you 
taste  of  blessedness  in  the  beginning,  but  you  are 
foolish  to  think  that  you  drank  it  all,  the  first  hour. 
He  always  keeps  for  you  that  which  is  better  than 
what  you  have  had.  This  is  the  only  true  and  satis- 
factory view  of  the  relation  of  Jesus  to  the  believer. 

Notice  more  particularly  the  method  of  his  revela- 
tion. "  He  that  doeth  his  will  shall  know  of  the  doc- 
trine." At  conversion,  you  are  little  more  than  a 


290  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

child  with  a  block  alphabet  or  an  illuminated  spirit- 
ual primer.     It  is  a  new  thing.     You  are  happy  as 
you  spell  out  a  few  words  or  exhibit  your  highly 
colored  pictures ;  but,  surely  you  are  not  going  to 
be  content  there.     As  you  grow  older,  you  will  not 
keep  up  a  lament  that  you  can  not  still  sit  upon  the 
floor  and    put   together   your   A  B  C's,  and  thumb 
those    gaudy   prints  over   and    over.      The    course 
marked  out  for  you  by  the    Great  Teacher  is  pro- 
gressive.    He  expects  you  to  advance,  from  grade  to 
grade,  in  the  knowledge  of  Himself.  At  the  outset,  he 
appears  to  you  chiefly  as  the  forgiver  of  your  individ- 
ual sins,  as  your  deliverer  from  condemnation,  as  the 
promiser  of  a  place  in  heaven  hereafter.  Thus  a  strong 
appeal  is  made  to  gratitude.     But  presently  you  are 
overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  your  personal  unfitness 
for  such   a  state    of  being,    and    an    intense   desire 
springs  up  for  the  formation  of   a   character,  which 
shall  be  in  harmony  with  your  surroundings,  when 
you  pass  from  this  life  to  the  other. 

Thereupon,  the  character  of  Jesus  begins  to  un- 
fold before  you  as  both  model  and  inspiration. 
Where  you  are  weak,  you  find  him  strong.  Where 
you  fail,  you  see  him  succeed.  You  detect  a  shal- 
low place  in  yourself,  but  when  you  take  soundings 
in  him,  just  there  the  depths  are  fathomless.  You 
tell  him,  all  that  is  in  your  heart,  and  never  regret 
the  fulness  of  your  confidence.  He  is  not  so  occu- 
pied with  his  own  affairs  that  your  interests  are  for- 
gotten. When  you  go  to  him  with  your  little 
triumphs,  instead  of  betraying  some  trace  of  cold- 
ness or  jealously,  he  meets  you  with  cordial  con- 
gratulations. Furthermore,  you  find  that  all  your 
draughts  do  not  diminish  the  supply.  What  he  is  to 


KEEPING    THE    GOOD  WINE. 


291 


you,  he  is  to  every  individual  in  the  Christian  broth- 
erhood. 

Take  the  noblest  specimen  of  merely  human 
nature  and  it  can  meet  the  demands  of  only  a  limited 
number, — Mr.  Moody  falling  to  sleep  on  his  knees 
in  the  inquiry  room.  Man  is  a  cistern,  soon  pumped 
dry;  Christ  is  an  unfailing  fountain,  fed  by  all  the 
clouds  of  heaven.  How  the  view  of  him  expands, 
as  you  see  him  meeting,  not  only  every  demand  of 
your  soul,  but  also  every  demand  of  believers  uni- 
versally! Constant  communion  with  such  a  being 
purifies  and  exalts  your  own  purposes.  You  grow 
more  and  more  ashamed  of  your  selfishness.  Your 
impulses  towards  righteousness  crystallize  into  shin- 
ing principle.  You  are  filled  with,  not  only  a  de- 
sire to  be  like  him,  but  also  with  a  belief  that  you 
can  be  like  him  in  your  limited  sphere.  In  that  re- 
spect there  is  a  marked  difference  between  the  in- 
fluence exerted  over  you  by  contact  with  a  great 
man,  and  that  exerted  over  you  by  association  with 
Him  of  Nazareth. 

You  may  be  conscious  of  a  certain  uplifting  power 
in  the  presence  of  a  mighty  warrior,  or  statesman, 
but  you  are  left  with  a  sense  of  dissatisfaction  and 
discouragement.  You  return  to  your  work  with 
more  or  less  discontent  at  its  pettiness.  But  such 
is  not  the  experience  of  the  Christian  in  the  society 
of  his  Master.  Comparative  insignificance  may  be- 
come more  and  more  manifest,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
the  hope  and  determination  to  grow  in  likeness  to 
that  Master  will  gather  strength  with  the  years. 

There  is  something  marvelous  about  that.  Think 
of  it.  Suppose  that  there  were  held  up  before  you, 
for  imitation,  the  character  of  Plato,  or  Socrates,  or 


292  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Aurelius,  or  Alfred,  or  Washington;  you  might  ad- 
mire, yet  you  would  answer,  Oh  no!  I  can  not  be  like 
any  one  of  those.  But  when  the  character  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  urged  upon  you,  as  a  model,  something 
within  straightway  responds,  yes  I  can,  and  by  the 
grace  of  God  I  will  be  like  him. 

Now,  infidelity  may  sneer,  but  it  can  not  sneer 
away  a  fact  like  that,  which  takes  on  grander  pro- 
portions with  each  succeeding  year  of  our  religious 
development. 

Turn,  likewise,  from  these  teachings  of  individual 
history,  to  what  is  revealed  of  Christ  in  general  his- 
tory. The  older  we  grow  in  the  faith  the  more 
clearly  do  we  discern  the  influence  of  the  Nazarene 
in  the  world's  progress.  To  our  thought,  he  becomes 
less  and  less  "the  despised  and  rejected  of  men." 
Some  may  try  to  shut  him  out  of  the  sciences  and 
the  philosophies  and  may  seek  to  put  him  upon  the 
same  plane  with  Mahomet  or  Confucius;  some  may 
exalt  the  "Light  of  Asia,"  but  He  of  Palestine  will 
continue  to  be  the  "  Light  of  the  World." 

The  race  is  fast  outgrowing  other  reformers.  He 
alone  walks  in  advance  of  all  our  boasted  progress. 
If  you  are  a  reading  man  or  woman,  you  come,  every 
little  while,  upon  some  article  which  labors  hard 
to  prove  that  Christianity  is,  or  is  fast  becoming  an 
obsolete  system,  that  it  had  its  uses  sixteen  or  eight- 
een centuries  ago,  that  it  then  quickened  sluggish 
thought  and  dull  moral  perceptions;  but  that,  like  the 
Exodus  of  Israel  in  ancient  times  or  the  Crusades 
of  a  more  modern  era,  it  is  one  of  the  spent  factors 
of  civilization  ;  and  that,  to  depend  upon  it  for  work- 
ing the  present  problems  of  society  will  only  prevent 
getting  a  satisfactory  answer.  In  case  you  are  not 


KEEPING    THE   GOOD  WINE.  293 

united  to  Christ  by  a  living  faith,  you  may  be  be- 
wildered by  these  flourishes  of  rhetorical  scepticism, 
you  may  be  blinded  by  such  plausible  sophistries 
and  may  be  led  to  join  in  the  same  silly  strain.  But 
if  there  be  a  vital  connection  between  your  heart  and 
the  heart  of  Jesus,  the  prospect  will  so  open  before 
you  as  the  years  come  and  go,  your  insight  into  the 
spiritual  processes  which  are  secretly  operating  in 
human  affairs,  will  be  so  quickened  that  you  can 
smile  in  perfect  unconcern  at  all  this  loud  talk  of  un- 
belief, about  the  decay  of  theology  and  about  an 
antiquated  gospel. 

The  material  does  sometimes  seem  to  be  eclips- 
ing the  spiritual.  Multiplied  inventions  causing  the 
earth's  surface  to  wave  with  unprecedented  harvests, 
discoveries  showing  the  globe's  interior  shining  with 
silver  and  gold,  trade  pushing  into  the  heart  of  dark 
continents,  commerce  ploughing  the  waters  of  every 
zone,  geology  laying  bare  the  strata  of  the  planet, 
and  lighting  them  up  as  a  wonderland  of  resurrec- 
tion, and  biology  pointing  to  that  resurrection  and 
noisily  proclaiming  new  doctrines  of  life, — all  these 
may  for  awhile  cry:  "Away  with  Him!  Away  with 
Him!"  but  they  can  not  crucify  him  out  of  the 
world's  thought.  They  may  pierce  his  hands  through 
and  through,  but  those  pierced  hands  will  still  con- 
tinue to  hide  the  leaven  of  his  kingdom,  in  field,  and 
mine,  and  business,  and  scientific  discovery,  till, 
finally,  mankind  shall  worship  him  only  as  Lord  of 
Lords. 

San  Francisco,  Chicago,  New  York,  Paris,  London 
may  point  proudly  to  paved  streets, marble  walls,  pala- 
tial abodes, treasures  gathered  from  every  clime, count- 
less multitudes  surging  up  and  down  the  thorough- 


294  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

fares,  railroads  groaning  under  burdens  of  freight 
and  travel,  and  wharves  waving  with  flags  of  many 
nationalities.  They  may,  in  contrast,  superciliously 
ask:  "  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth?" 
Discipleship  answers,  as  of  old:  "  Come  and  see." 

Pomp  and  pageantry  are  wanting.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  this  quiet  village  to  catch  the  careless  eye.  It 
is  seemingly  the  last  place  on  earth  to  sway  the  des- 
tines of  mankind.  Yet,  out  of  that  contemptible 
town,  with  its  shiftless  inhabitants  and  its  grass- 
grown  streets, — walks  a  figure  that  has  shaped,  as 
has  no  other,  the  written  and  the  unwritten  history 
of  the  race,  noiselessly  treading  the  by-ways  and 
high-ways  of  reason,  directing  more  and  more  the 
course  of  human  events,  quietly  ruling  where  his 
presence  is  not  recognized,  and,  this  day,  though  his 
voice  may  not  rise  above  the  din  and  roar  of  a  thous- 
and industries,  a  KING  in  disguise,  patiently  waiting, 
till,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  the  great  cities  of  both 
hemispheres  shall  unite  in  ascribing  HONOR  to 
NAZARETH,  as  standing  high  above  them  all,  be- 
cause from  her  have  issued  in  the  person  of  the  SON 
OF  MAN  those  forces  which  have  revolutionized 
and  saved  this  lost  world. 

"I  am  the  vine,"  said  Jesus.  Generations  past 
have  plucked  and  crushed  some  of  the  clusters. 
They  have  tasted  the  new  wine  of  the  KINGDOM. 
But  the  choicest  vintage  is  to  be  by  and  by.  The 
best  cometh  last.  Yea,  we  shall  not  know  its  full 
flavor,  till  we  drink  of  it  with  HIM,  Yonder. 


SYMPATHY  IN  SORROW* 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  on  Monday  night 
when  I  first  heard  of  the  cruel  accident  which  had 
shocked  this  whole  community  and  had  overwhelm- 
ed with  sorrow  this  beloved  family.  I  could  not 
sleep  till  into  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  for 
thinking  of  the  desolation  which  had  come  upon  a 
happy  home.  The  days  grew  fresh  in  memory  when 
he  who  has  long  been  an  honored  elder  brother  in 
the  ministry  was  my  college  tutor,  and  I  read  to 
him  from  Virgil's  song  of 

"A  youth  full  armed,  by  none  excelled 
In  beauty's  manly  grace, 
Though  on  his  brow  was  naught  of  mirth, 
And  his  fixed  eyes  were  dropped  to  earth, 
While  gloomy  night,  as  of  the  dead, 
Flapther  black  pinions  o'er  his  head. 

The  youth  the  Fates  but  just  display 
To  earth,  nor  let  him  longer  stay, 
O  piety!  O  ancient  faith! 

Bring  lilies  here,  in  handfuls  bring, 
Their  lustrous  blooms  I  fain  would  fling, 
Yet,  what  avails  it  now?" 

And  afterward  the  college  tutor  became  the  vil- 
lage pastor,  and  the  trusted  adviser  of  the  pupil,  who 
had  himself,  meanwhile,  become  a  teacher.  Then 
there  was  the  romance  of  life,  and  the  younger 
friend  stood  beside  the  older  friend,  who  stood  in 


*  Words  spoken  at  the  funeral  of  James  W.  Tupper,  the  son 
of  a  life-long  friend,  Rev.  H.  M.  Tupper. 


296  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES- 

the  church  in  another  town,  still  nearer  the  girl  who 
should  one  day  be  the  mother  of  the  son  who  taketh 
here  his  final  rest.  It  is  good  to  recall  the  vanished 
years,  years  of  patient,  faithful,  fruitful  service  to 
the  people — years  of  happiness  when  the  boys  and 
the  girls  entered  the  household.  Yes,  now  that  the 
bitterness  is  past,  it  is  good  to  recall  even  the  year 
when  that  other  dear  son  was  torn  from  the  family 
embrace. 

It  was  only  last  month,  my  brother,  that  our  hearts 
were  full  of  these  recollections,  as  we  spoke  to- 
gether the  farewell  words  of  affection,  at  the  funeral 
of  a  mutual  friend,*  in  the  old  church  where  you 
used  to  preach  to  that  friend  and  to  me.  As  we 
turned  away  from  the  cemetery,  we  said  to  ourselves, 
"who  next?"  Was  it  not  merciful  that  it  was  hid- 
den from  us  who  the  next  should  be? 

The  following  week,  I  attended  the  Home  Mis- 
sionary Conference,  at  the  Chicago  Theological 
Seminary.  Among  the  most  eager  listeners  at  the 
sessions  in  chapel  and  church  was  this  your  son. 
He  talked  to  me  happily  of  his  new  studies,  and  of 
the  ministry  on  which  he  hoped  to  enter  by  and  by. 
I  wish  I  could  photograph  for  you  his  features,  as 
I  saw  them  last  in  the  First  Church  and  in  Carpen- 
ter Hall.  The  face  was  bright  with  the  light  of 
young  discipleship.  That  light  has  faded  out  of 
the  countenance  in  the  coffin,  but  it  has  grown  more 
radiant  in  the  presence  of  God. 

As  I  recall  the  earnest  deliberations  of  that  con- 
ference, the  urgency  with  which  the  scarcity  of  edu- 
cated men  in  the  ministry  was  dwelt  upon  by  every 


*  Major  John  C.  Salter. 


SYMPATHY  IN  SORROW.  297 

speaker,  the  importunate  plea  made  by  all  the 
superintendents,  in  the  name  of  pastorless  churches 
throughout  the  states  of  the  Interior  and  the  terri- 
tories of  the  West,  I  grow  more  and  more  perplexed 
over  the  distressing  event  which  has  brought  us 
together.  In  human  short-sightedness,  I  cannot 
help  saying:  I  ought  not  to  be  here  conducting  such 
a  service;  this  coffin  ought  not  to  be  in  the  church; 
the  Master  hath  need  of  thee  on  earth,  young  broth- 
er; you  should  be,  this  very  afternoon,  where  you 
planned  to  be,  studying  with  fresh  zeal,  after  vaca- 
tion recreation,  the  Hebrew  and  the  Greek,  the  lan- 
guage of  the  prophets  and  the  language  of  the 
Messiah,  so  that  you  may  presently  interpret  wisely 
to  men  the  oracles  of  God;  if  our  youth  must  be 
taken  away  in  their  prime,  they  ought  to  be  stricken 
down  in  the  vocations  and  professions  which  have 
men  enough  and  to  spare.  They  ought  not  to  be 
swept  from  the  ranks  of  the  only  calling  on  earth 
which  is  pitifully  crying  for  recruits.  Is  not  the 
Master  forgetting  the  necessities  of  His  kingdom? 

Forgive  us,  Lord,  that  tears  blind  our  eyes,  that 
grief  for  the  moment  prostrates  faith,  and  that  re- 
bellion drives  us  to  arraign  the  Providence  of  God. 
In  our  heart  of  hearts  we  know  that  these  great  in- 
terests which  we  love  are  infinitely  more  precious 
unto  Thee;  that  Thou  wilt  never  abandon  the  world 
as  lost,  and  that  in  Thy  keeping  the  church  univer- 
sal is  absolutely  safe  forever.  And  then  another 
protest  will  rise  to  the  lips.  Though  these  grand 
affairs  may  move  securely  on,  through  the  centuries, 
toward  the  millennium,  is  the  Master  dealing  quite 
fairly  with  a  faithful  servant,  who  has  done  his  bid- 
ding these  many  years,  and  who  needs  a  son  to  lean 


298  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

upon  as  the  days  draw  near  that  have  little  earthly 
pleasure  in  them?  Is  such  the  pity  of  the  Lord  to 
those  that  fear  Him?  He  certainly  knoweth  our 
frame,  but  does  he  not  sometimes  forget  that  we  are 
dust?  How  could  He  permit  this  grievous  afflic- 
tion to  overtake  one  who  through  life  has  sought  to 
know  and  to  do  the  Heavenly  Father's  will?  Must 
the  bruised  reed  be  broken?  Must  the  smoking 
flax  be  quenched?  There  need  have  been  no  mir- 
acle. There  need  have  been  no  voice  from  the 
skies,  warning  of  danger.  Some  gentle  influence 
of  the  Spirit,  such  as  we  feel  sure  often  directs 
the  steps,  though  men  are  not  conscious  of  its 
presence,  might  have  prevented  the  catastrophe. 
Why  was  that  influence  withheld?  Could  not  the 
natural  desire  of  a  father  that  his  name  be  perpetu- 
ated be  gratified,  especially  a  consecrated  longing, 
hereditary  in  the  family,  that  one  at  least  in  each 
successive  generation  should  be  a  minister  of  the 
gospel?  Does  this,  the  holiest  ambition  that  can 
possess  a  parent's  heart,  fail  to  move  the  Lord  of 
Hosts? 

Friends,  such  questions  as  these  are  clamoring  in 
your  minds  here  this  afternoon,  but  you  are  saying 
to  yourselves:  Why  is  the  speaker  voicing  inquiries 
that  he  cannot  answer?  Would  it  not  be  better  to 
avoid  all  such  suggestions?  No.  This  stricken 
household  is  passing  through  the  supreme  ordeal  of 
faith.  For  two  days  and  nights  such  cries  have  been 
fierce  in  their  hearts.  It  helps  them  to  know  that 
they  are  not  alone  in  their  dire  perplexity.  This 
pent  up  distress  finds  a  certain  relief  in  expression. 
And  God  is  not  at  all  tried  by  what  you  and  I  are 
thinking  and  saying  in  this  presence.  He  knows 


SYMPATHY  IN  SORROW.  299 

that  we  cannot  help  it  just  now.  He  looks  down 
upon  the  scene  with  wonderful  compassion.  We 
should  not  have  permitted  this  calamity  had  the 
control  of  affairs  been  in  our  hands.  Certainly  not. 
Neither  would  God,  had  he  been  shut  up  under  the 
low  vaulted  firmament  and  hemmed  in  by  the  con- 
tracted horizon  which  restrict  our  vision.  But  does 
that  prove  aught  against  his  boundless  love?  Why, 
what  has  God  done?  He  has  taken  this  ingenuous 
youth  from  an  earthly  career,  which  had  its  attrac- 
tions. There  is  delight  in  the  thought  that  our 
finite  plans  are  a  part  of  the  infinite  plan.  There 
is  satisfaction  in  putting  one  or  two  bricks  where 
they  will  stay,  in  the  temple  which  the  Supreme 
Architect  is  rearing  for  His  glory.  There  is  exhila- 
ration in  knowing  that  our  little  stroke  is  in  line  with 
the  majestic  sweep  of  the  arm  that  is  omnipotent. 

This  youth  has  lost  that,  but  how  much  has  he 
been  spared?  He  is  freed  from  watching  the  ever 
widening  distance  between  the  ideal  and  the  real. 
He  need  not  know  what  it  is  to  row  wearily  for  a 
long  life  against  a  stubborn  current.  He  will  never 
have  to  contend  with  the  nervous  exhaustion  of 
crowding  on  some  laudable  Christian  enterprise, 
with  resources  utterly  inadequate.  He  steps  at  once 
from  the  high  plane  of  consecration  on  earth  to  the 
high  range  of  possibilities  yonder,  where  work  shall 
bring  no  weariness,  where  aspiration  shall  meet  no 
discouragement,  where  fine  achievement  shall  always 
reach  its  shining  goal. 

My  brother  and  sister:  You  gave  your  boy  to 
God,  for  service  anywhere.  Your  faith  will  not  fail. 
There  must  be  a  struggle.  But  you  will  find  new 
strength  in  the  love  of  these  daughters.  Your  flock 


3OO  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

will  be  drawn  to  you  in  tender  sympathy  impossible 
before.  The  sweet  resignation  with  which  you  bury 
your  sorrow  will  subdue  hearts  which  argument 
could  never  influence.  And,  finally,  you  will  be 
glad  that  God  has  spared  your  son  such  trials  as 
have  marked  your  earthly  ministry  and  has  called 
him  to  the  more  blessed  service  of  the  upper  temple, 
because  the'King  hath  most  need  of  him  there. 


A    GREAT    PHYSICIAN.* 

With  profound  respect,  with  grateful  affection, 
and  with  an  indescribable  sense  of  loneliness,  do  I 
rise  to  speak  beside  the  coffin  of  one,  who  has  been 
to  me  health  in  sickness,  rest  in  weariness  and  good 
cheer  amid  multiplied  anxieties. 

There  is  no  other  relation  like  that  to  the  trusted 
physician,  who  has  been  in  the  house  when  the 
angel  of  life  has  entered,  or  when  the  angel  of  death, 
with  his  black  wings,  has  blown  out  the  light  of  the 
fireside. 

It  is  almost  forty  years  since  in  boyhood  I  first 
heard  of  this  then  young  surgeon's  fame,  but  for 
only  half  of  that  period  has  there  been  a  familiar 
home  acquaintance.  That  word,  familiar,  sounds 
strangely  to  many.  Say  they,  any  other  adjective 
would  be  more  appropriate  in  speaking  of  the  quiet, 
silent,  reserved,  sometimes  brusque  and  distant 
David  Prince,  whom  we  have  nevertheless  held  in  the 
highest  esteem.  I  used  to  think  so.  Much  as  I 
admired  the  man's  professional  skill  and  blunt  sin- 
cerity, there  was  great  constraint  in  his  society. 
One  day  back  in  the  seventies,  we  happened  to  be  in 
the  same  room  together  alone.  There  was  no  escape. 
We  sat  in  silence  half  an  hour.  We  looked  vacantly 
at  each  other.  Then  both  began  to  smile.  Then 
both  burst  into  a  laugh.  Then  the  ice  broke  up  and 
went  out,  as  it  doe's  in  the  river  in  early  spring.  And 

*Address  at  the  funeral  of  Dr.  David'Prince. 


302  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

since  then,  the  current  of  conversation  has  always 
been  open  between  us  two,  till  now. 

One  night,  a  dozen  years  ago,  we  sat  up  till  into 
the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  discussing  revealed 
religion  and,  especially,  the  revelation  of  God  in 
Christ.  His  words  and  bearing  were  earnest  and 
reverent.  Our  creeds  were  in  part  concurrent,  in 
part  divergent,  and  we  bade  each  other  good-bye, 
saying  that,  whichever  was  right  and  whichever  was 
wrong,  if  we  could  preserve  that  same  spirit  of 
patient  docility,  we  should  at  length  be  guided  to  a 
knowledge  of  all  essential  truth.  Since  then,  we 
have  had  no  long  formal  talk  on  such  questions,  and 
it  is  not  "wise  to  speculate  upon  them  in  this  pres- 
ence. I  think  that  if  our  departed  friend  could 
speak,  this  is  what  he  would  wish  to  say. 

We  are  here  to  pay  tribute  to  beneficence  of  life, 
and  not  to  discuss  perfection  in  dogma. 

Doctor  David  Prince  was  an  enthusiast  in  his  pro- 
fession. It  is  peculiarly  the  profession  of  the  family. 
Sons  and  son-in-law  all  follow  in  his  footsteps. 
Large  numbers  of  the  medical  fraternity  from  the 
region  round  about  have  come  to  do  honor  to  his 
memory  to-day.  In  view  of  these  facts,  it  is  appro- 
priate that,  here  in  the  house  of  him  who  was  known 
as  the  Great  Physician,  we  should  speak  briefly  of 
this  high  calling.  I  believe  that  what  may  be  said, 
would  have  the  cordial  approbation  of  him  who  is 
speechless  on  earth  forever. 

There  is  a  current,  and  there  is  a  counter  current, 
coursing  through  the  medical  profession.  The  current 
is  materialistic,  and  the  counter  current  is  theistic. 
In  following  the  healing  art,  the  practitioner  is  con- 
stantly attracted  to  the  v/orking  of  natural  agencies. 


A  GREAT  PHYSICIAN.  303 

Attention  is  mainly  directed  to  the  action  of  tangible 
substances  upon  the  human  system.  This  magnifies 
the  relative  importance  of  formulas  and  recipes  and 
efficient  causes.  The  physician  becomes  so  absorbed 
in  tracing  the  operation  of  remedies  from  the  dis- 
pensary, that  he  is  led  insensibly  to  discredit  the 
supernatural. 

With  deep  solicitude,  do  I  watch  this  process  go- 
ing on,  in  the  minds  of  some  very  dear  friends  in 
this  noble  vocation.  They  themselves  may  not  be 
aware  of  what  is  taking  place,  but  it  is  painfully  evi- 
dent, that  they  are  losing  the  vividness  and  fresh- 
ness of  an  earlier  faith.  This  tendency  is  greatly 
accelerated  by  brain  dissection,  and  the  localization 
of  functions,  in  connection  with  different  parts  of 
that  organ.  Mind  and  matter  are  thus  brought  into 
so  intimate  relations,  that  there  is  special  tempta- 
tion, to  look  upon  such  ideas  as  conscience,  and  sin, 
and  holiness,  as  the  antiquated  notions  of  a  dying 
creed,  and  to  regard  what  used  to  be  considered 
moral  and  immoral  actions,  as  physiological  effects, 
for  which  the  individual  is  not  accountable.  The 
vivisection  of  animals,  and  the  comparison  thus 
made  possible  between  corresponding  organs  in 
brute  and  man,  are  shedding  some  light  upon  ques- 
tions of  mental  and  moral  philosophy,  and  it  is 
likely  that  physiology  will,  in  future,  make  much 
more  valuable  contributions  to  psychology;  but,  as 
yet,  we  have  not  got  beyond  vague  hypotheses  and 
partial  experiments.  There  are  some  shrewd  guess- 
es at  truth  and  some  wild  guesses  at  truth.  Amid 
the  fascinations  of  inquiry,  men  are  quite  as  likely 
to  go  wrong  as  to  go  right.  Inductions  are  made 
too  hastily.  A  fragment  is  magnified  by  imagina- 


304  SERMONS  AJSD  ADDRESSES. 

tion  into  a  supposed  discovery  startling  and  revo- 
lutionary. The  charm  of  this  kind  of  research  is 
especially  captivating  to  the  younger  and  more 
enthusiastic  members  of  the  profession.  But  so 
long  as  the  great  question  of  the  relation  of  brain 
substance  to  thought,  and  of  the  nervous  system 
to  moral  action,  is  still  under  debate,  before  the- 
ories, however  plausible,  have  been  subjected  to 
numerous  and  unequivocal  tests,  it  should  not  be 
forgotten  that,  though  the  scientific  imagination  has 
lofty  uses,  it  is  likewise  liable  to  gross  abuses. 

So,  too,  when  the  discussion  passes  from  brain  cells 
to  cell  life  and  germ  life  in  general,  though  valu- 
able results  have  been  reached,  and  though  even 
better  things  are  in  prospect,  it  is  exceedingly  whole- 
some, to  listen  to  words  like  these  from  one  of  the 
world's  greatest  scientists:  "It  would  indeed  be 
difficult,  in  any  other  department  of  human  knowl- 
edge, to  find  anything  to  equal  the  extravagance  of 
hypotheses  recently  advanced  concerning  living 
matter  and  its  properties." 

Now  educated,  thoughtful  and  progressive  physi- 
cians, more  than  any  other  men,  have  forced  upon 
them,  by  the  very  nature  of  their  vocation,  all  these 
vague  speculations  concerning  the  origin  of  life  and 
of  moral  responsibility.  They  are  more  exposed 
than  any  others  to  the.  subtle  influences  of  that  sci- 
entific school,  which  would  exalt  efficient  causes 
and  secondary  agencies,  so  as  to  thrust  the  Great 
First  Cause  out  out  of  sight  altogether,  or,  at  least, 
to  crowd  Him  so  far  into  the  back-ground,  as  to  re- 
move Him,  practically,  from  all  present,  active  part 
in  the  affairs  of  mankind. 

This  does  not  mean  that  we  should,  in  a  cowardly 


A   GREAT  PHYSICIAN. 


305 


way,  flee  from  such  investigations.  Let  the  exami- 
nation be  bold  and  thorough.  There  is  more  to 
fear  from  turning  the  back  upon  scientific  research, 
or  from  approaching  it  with  fear  and  trembling,  than 
from  engaging  in  it  patiently  and  exhaustively,  in 
the  candid  spirit  of  Doctor  David  Prince,  who  was 
ready  to  abandon  any  darling  hypothesis,  the  mo- 
ment it  was  proved  false  to  facts.  But,  gentlemen, 
there  is  a  counter  current  swift  and  strong.  It  takes 
its  set  from  anatomy.  The  study  of  a  human  skele- 
ton converted  Galen,  whose  disciples  ye  are. 

Though  skeptical  in  his  tendencies,  he  became  so 
impressed  with  the  evidences  of  adaptation  and  de- 
sign that  were  forced  upon  him,  by  his  constant 
examination  of  the  frame  work  of  the  body,  that  he 
was  brought  at  last  to  subscribe,  most  reverently,  to 
the  doctrine  of  an  omnipotent  and  omniscient 
Creator.  At  the  foot  of  some  dangerous  plants,  you 
may  find  growing  nature's  own  remedy  for  any  harm 
which  those  plants  may  inflict.  So,  while  there  are 
dangers  connected  with  your  beneficent  vocation, 
the  blessed  antidote  is  never  far  away. 

Though  I  have  meant  to  speak  plainly  of  the  chief 
peril  of  your  profession,  no  one  could  cherish  a 
more  exalted  conception  of  the  dignity  of  the  physi- 
cian, as,  at  the  portal  of  life,  he  ushers  the  child  into 
the  world,  as  he  bends  over  the  couch  of  suffering, 
and  turns  cries  of  distress  into  songs  of  rejoicing,  or  as, 
till  the  very  last,  he  blocks  the  gateway  of  death, 
and  fights  back  the  destroyer.  Who  can  over-esti- 
mate that  man's  power  for  good?  In  many  respects 
he  enjoys  advantages  superior  to  those  of  any  other 
mortal.  As  the  confidential  medical  adviser,  he  ob- 
tains, as  nobody  else  can  obtain  it,  an  intimate  knowl- 


306  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

edge  of  family  history,  hereditary  tendencies,  and 
personal  peculiarities.  While  studying  the  physical 
constitution  of  parent  and  child,  he  incidentally  be- 
comes acquainted  with  the  mental  and  moral  char- 
acteristics of  both,  without  their  being  aware  of  the 
revelation,  and,  therefore,  without  any  temptation 
on  their  part  to  assume  such  disguises  as  are  often 
put  on  when  the  minister  is  making  his  professional 
visits. 

So  far  as  personal  influence  in  the  domestic  circle 
is  concerned,  the  physician  may  out-rank  the  clergy- 
man. The  latter  has  not  the  same  insight  into  the 
general  relations  of  the  household,  and  into  the  pe- 
culiarities of  individual  members.  His  calls  must 
be  more  or  less  methodical  and  perfunctory,  and, 
consequently,  they  may  not  be  made  at  all  oppor- 
tunely. But  the  former  is  sure  of  his  ground, 
and  he  can  seize  the  happiest  moments  for  directing 
thought  to  those  interests  which  reach  on  beyond  the 
grave.  By  the  cradle,  by  the  couch  of  the  conva- 
lescent, and  by  the  coffin,  the  voice  of  the  beloved 
physician  may  be  sweet  as  is  no  other,  with  heavenly 
persuasion. 

I  wish  that  it  were  proper  for  me  to  repeat  here  a 
story  that  I  heard  last  night,  concerning  the  tender 
and  reassuring  way  in  which  this  man,  so  strong  and 
rugged,  led  a  timid  and  shrinking  woman  down  till 
the  cold  waters  touched  her  feet,  and  her  lips  were 
ready  for  the  song  which  the  immortals  sing.  I  wish 
that  it  were  proper  to  make  articulate  here  the  dumb 
testimony  which  is  locked  up  in  the  breasts  of  a 
great  multitude  of  the  poor,  both  the  deserving  and 
the  undeserving,  (for  his  sympathies  were  so  free  that 
he  could  not  discriminate),  whom  he  visited  in  sick- 


A   GREAT  PHYSICIAN.  307 

ness,  without  thought  of  compensation.  But  that 
is  not  necessary,  for  it  is  familiar  knowledge  to  you 
all,  and  the  departed  himself  would  protest  against 
such  recitals. 

There  has  been  one  hard  feature  of  Doctor  Prince's 
professional  life,  about  which  he  never  complained, 
but  which  ought  to  be  mentioned.  It  was  caused  by  his 
very  eminence  as  a  surgeon.  He  has  had  to  deal 
with  more  desperate  cases  than  any  other  doctor  in 
Central  Illinois.  Besides  the  natural  proportion  of 
such  in  his  own  vicinity,  it  has  long  been  the  custom 
of  general  practitioners,  who  have  not  made 
surgery  a  specialty,  when  ordinary  measures  have 
failed,  to  summon  this  veteran,  who,  it  is  no  dis- 
credit to  younger  men  to  say,  has  long  held  the  first 
rank  here  as  a  surgeon.  In  dealing  with  so  many 
forlorn  hopes,  heroic  expedients  have  often  been 
necessary,  and,  occasionally,  good  but  thoughtless 
people,  ignorant  of  the  facts,  have  been  unjust  in 
their  judgment  of  this  man  of  steady  nerve,  and 
cunning  hand,  and  loving  heart. 

This  is  mentioned  to  emphasize  the  spirit  with 
which  such  misapprehensions  have  been  borne.  It 
is  worthy  of  admiration  and  of  imitation  by  all  pub- 
lic men.  Doctor  Prince  never  went  about  making 
explanations  and  excuses.  He  did  not  rush  into  the 
papers  to  air  his  personal  grievances,  real  or  imagi- 
nary; but  with  quiet  dignity  threw  himself  back  upon 
his  character,  content  to  let  that  take  care  of  his 
reputation.  In  this  view,  would  it  be  any  flattery  to 
say,  that  the  manliest  man  among  us  died  the  other 
night?  Such  an  affirmation  is  not  made,  but  the 
question  may  stimulate  beneficial  self-examination. 

When    asked,  yesterday   afternoon,  to   say   a  few 


308  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES, 

words  to-day,  it  was  my  thought  to  confine  remark 
to  the  relation  of  the  departed  to  the  educational 
interests  of  Jacksonville.  But  the  allotted  twenty 
minutes  have  nearly  expired  in  other  suggestions, 
which  perhaps  better  befit  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanc- 
tuary. I  can  not  close,  however,  without  outlining 
a  brief,  which  might  be  expanded  into  a  long  ad- 
dress. 

In  the  public  library  and  reading  room,  many 
books  and  periodicals  inscribed  with  the  name  of 
Doctor  David  Prince,  bear  silent  witness  to  his 
thoughtfulness  for  those  of  both  sexes  and  of  all 
ages,  who  are  largely  indebted  to  such  philanthrophic 
enterprises  for  enlightenment.  It  was  a  happy  sug- 
gestion at  the  meeting  last  night,  that  the  city  should 
honor  herself,  by  making  that  public  library  a  memo- 
rial of  him  who  loved  the  people.  Who  can  take 
the  place  of  Doctor  David  Prince  in  the  affections  of 
the  pupils  and  teachers  of  our  common  schools? 
No  one  else  has  been  more  zealous  in  the  support  of 
a  high  school  for  the  sons  and  daughters  of  those 
unable  to  pay  the  cost  of  tuition  for  advanced  in- 
struction. The  institutions  for  the  education  of  the 
blind,  and  of  the  deaf  and  dumb,  have  always  found 
him  eager  to  aid  in  magnifying  their  beneficent  work. 
The  commercial  school  has  prized  his  kindly  appre- 
ciation of  its  efforts  to  promote  system  and  efficiency 
in  business  methods.  Our  female  seminaries  have 
lost  one  of  their  best  friends,  an  enthusiastic  advo- 
cate of  the  highest  learning  for  woman. 

Illinois  College  has  enjoyed  in  him  a  wise  and  lib- 
eral counsellor.  For  years  there  has  not  been  formed 
for  her  welfare  a  single  plan,  which  has  not  had  his 
sympathy,  verbal  and  pecuniary.  More  than  once 


A   GREAT  PHYSICIAN.  309 

has  he  said:  "  Come  to  me  whenever  there  is  a  pro- 
ject on  foot  to  render  the  college  a  greater  blessing." 
More  than  once  has  he  sought  an  opportunity  to 
make  a  generous  donation  before  he  was  approached 
on  the  subject.  How  many  citizens  are  there  left  in 
Jacksonville  who  cherish  for  all  our  institutions  of 
learning  an  interest  so  discriminating  and  compre- 
hensive, as  did  the  beloved  physician  of  the  great 
heart  and  the  liberal  hand? 

Fond  father,  tender  husband,  loyal  brother,  friend 
never  false,  shining  light  in  an  illustrious  profession, 
honor  to  the  city,  noble  figure  in  the  commonwealth, 
model  American  citizen,  lover  of  every  creature  that 
beareth  the  image  of  God,  Farewell  ! 


IMMORTALITY. 
"  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again?" — Job  xiv:  14. 

The  book  of  Job  may  be  the  oldest  book  in  the 
Bible.  Criticism  shows  that  the  author  probably 
lived  about  the  time  of  Abraham,  and  that  strict 
chronological  order  would  put  the  book  after  a  few 
of  the  opening  chapters  of  Genesis.  The  literature 
of  the  doctrine  of  immortality  embraces  several 
thousand  volumes  or  parts  of  volumes.  Job  was  the 
first  recorded  contributor  to  the  discussion. 

The  general  belief  of  the  Egyptians,  Hebrews 
and  Greeks  was  strikingly  similar.  The  Hebrews 
and  Greeks  borrowed  from  the  Egyptians.  I  can 
not  doubt  that  the  faith  in  immortality  had  its  gene- 
sis in  the  mind  of  the  first  man  created  in  the  image 
of  God.  The  fact  that  he  was  the  offspring  of  the 
Eternal  would  certainly  suggest  the  idea  that  the 
everlasting  life  of  the  Father  would  be  imparted  to 
the  child. 

But  historic  data  are  wanting,  for  tracing  the  earli- 
est development  of  that  idea.  Not  till  we  reach  the 
records  of  Egypt  do  we  discover  a  definite  creed, 
accepted  by  the  multitude.  A  love  for  the  abiding 
was  a  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  Egyptian  people. 
The  mummy  and  the  pyramid  both  bear  witness  to 
this  fact.  No  other  nation  has  ever  taken  such 
pains  to  preserve  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  or  to  rear 
structures  which  should  successfully  withstand  the 
ravages  of  time.  The  reasons  are  largely  climatic. 
The  atmosphere  there  did  not  stir  the  blood,  tempt- 


IMMORTALITY.  3 1  I 

ing  to  adventure  and  migration,  as  did  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  more  northern  latitude.  Moreover,  the 
beneficence  of  the  Nile  was  a  constant  invitation  to 
remain  in  the  same  region,  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration. Again,  the  climate  was  such,  that  material 
structures  would  neither  crumble  nor  perish,  as  else- 
where. The  pyramids  there  suffer  less  from  the 
action  of  the  elements  in  thousands  of  years  than 
they  would  here  in  a  century.  The  whole  environ- 
ment of  the  people  constantly  turned  their  thoughts 
toward  the  everlasting.  What  suggestion  could  be 
more  natural  than  this:  if  the  body  and  the  tomb  of 
the  body  may  be  made  proof  against  decay,  why 
may  not  the  soul  live  on  forever?  The  essentially 
permanent  conditions  of  mortal  life  crowded  the 
question  of  immortal  life  upon  the  attention  of  the 
Egyptians,  as  upon  no  other  heathen  nation  of 
antiquity.  Their  wonderful  learning,  not  content 
with  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  sought  to  follow  the 
stars  in  their  courses,  and  then,  unabashed,  filled  the 
invisible  with  its  speculations. 

Out  of  the  Egyptian  conception  grew  the  He- 
brew doctrine  of  the  other  life.  Job  was  an  Arabian 
patriarch.  Living  at  no  great  distance  from  Egypt, 
he  received  from  that  region  some  notion  of  another 
world,  as  the  abode  of  the  dead.  He  was,  however, 
too  far  removed,  to  borrow  the  creed  entire.  He 
sought,  through  his  own  philosophizing,  to  complete 
a  system  of  belief,  respecting  the  destiny  of  the 
soul.  The  text  introduces  him  at  this  stage  in  his 
speculations.  The  patriarch  had  no  clear  idea  of 
immortality.  He  was  not  even  a  believer  in  the  doc- 
trine of  the  resurrection.  We  often  quote,  at  the 
grave-side,  those  beautiful  words  from  his  lips:  "I 


312  SERMONS   AND   ADDRESSES. 

know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall,  at 
the  latter  day,  stand  upon  the  earth."  We  apply  the 
passage  to  the  Messiah  and  the  final  resurrection;  and 
it  does  express  a  precious  truth,  with  rare  felicity. 
But  a«  examination  of  the  text,  in  the  light  of  the 
context,  proves  conclusively,  that,  in  uttering  it,  Job 
had  no  thought  of  a  coming  Christ,  or  of  the  ris- 
ing from  the  dead.  He  was  only  voicing  an  unshak- 
en faith  in  God,  as  his  vindicator  in  the  present  life. 
The  prophecy  simply  anticipated  the  triumphant 
sequel  of  the  story  of  his  grievous  temptation.  God 
did  administer  a  withering  rebuke  to  the  patriarch's 
accusers,  and  that  "  latter  day  "  was  the  day  of  his 
multiplied  worldly  prosperity. 

In  the  times  of  Job,  the  Hebrew  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality had  been  developed  so  far  as  this  and  no  far- 
ther :  the  souls  of  all  live  on  in  a  shadowy  Under- 
world ;  there  is  no  suggestion  of  reward  for  the 
righteous ;  there  is  a  single  intimation  of  possible 
retribution  for  the  wicked.  Examine  the  books  of 
Moses  and  many  of  the  books  which  follow  them,  and 
you  can  not  discover  a  single  distinct,  unmistak- 
able avowal  of  a  belief  in  the  doctrine  in  question. 
Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob  and  Joshua  and  the 
Judges  all  talk  most  fluently  concerning  an  earthly 
Canaan ;  but  they  have  not  a  word  to  say  concern- 
ing a  heavenly  Canaan.  Even  when  they  stand  up- 
on the  brink  of  the  grave,  they  express  neither  hope 
nor  fear,  respecting  what  may  lie  beyond,  in  realms 
invisible. 

The  translation  of  Enoch  and  of  Elijah  was  a 
miraculous  termination  of  earthly  careers,  but  it  had 
no  special  bearing  on  this  subject.  We  believe  that 
Enoch  and  Elijah  were  taken  to  the  presence  of 


.  IMMORTALITY.  313 

God,  to  dwell  there  forever,  but  there  is  no  such 
plain  statement  in  Genesis  and  Kings.  We  suppose 
that  all  those  ancient  worthies  cherished  some  such 
creed  as  Job's,  in  respect  to  the  continued  existence 
of  the  soul  ;  but  we  have  absolutely  no  testimony 
from  their  own  lips,  to  that  effect.  The  first  half  of 
the  Old  Testament  contains  no  authoritative  THUS 
SAITH  THE  LORD,  on  the  question  of  an  endless  life. 

You  do  find,  scattered  here  and  there,  hints,  sugges- 
tions and  anxious  inquiries,  but  nothing  more.  We 
are  so  accustomed  to  reading  into  those  old  records 
the  revelations  of  later  ages,  that  we  fail  to  realize, 
how  dense  was  the  darkness  then  enveloping  this 
question,  even  among  God's  chosen  people. 

The  practice  of  necromancy  in  the  reign  of  Saul 
indicates  that  a  belief  in  the  soul's  future  existence 
was  spreading  among  the  Israelites.  When,  at 
length,  you  reach  the  Psalms  of  David,  the  idea  be- 
gins to  crystallize,  and  to  exert  a  spiritual  influence, 
till  then  unknown.  God  so  quickened  the  poetic  in- 
sight of  the  shepherd  king,  as  to  let  in  new  gleams 
of  light,  and  to  excite  a  deeper  interest  in  the  prob- 
lem of  the  soul's  destiny. 

The  Psalmist  is  also  the  first  Hebrew  writer  to  an- 
nounce the  doctrine  of  future  retribution.  Whether 
the  word  be  translated  Hell,  or  Hades,  or  the  grave, 
the  idea  of  penalty  will  cling  to  the  verse  :  "  The 
wicked  shall  be  turned  into  hell,  and  all  the  nations 
that  forget  God."  Similar  views  are  declared  by 
several  of  the  succeeding  prophets,  but  by  none  so 
clearly  as  by  the  Psalmist,  until  you  come  to  this  pre- 
diction by  Daniel,  which  is  the  most  vivid  language 
in  the  Old  Testament,  on  the  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality. "And  many  of  those  that  sleep  in  the  dust 


3H 


SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES, 


of  the  earth  shall  awake,  some  to  everlasting  life, 
and  some  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  And 
they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of 
the  firmament  ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteous- 
ness, as  the  stars,  for  ever  and  ever."  Fitting  pre- 
lude to  the  advent  of  HIM,  who  was  and  who  is  the 

RESURRECTION    and    THE    LIFE! 

Plato's  Dialogues  embody  the  world's  most  ad- 
vanced thoughts  on  immortality  prior  to  the  Christian 
era.  The  topic  was  exceedingly  fascinating  to  that 
philosopher.  He  refered  to  it,  incidentally,  in  the 
discussion  of  many  other  subjects,  subjects  which 
would  seem  to  have  with  it  only  the  remotest  con- 
nection. But  the  Phaedo  and  the  Apology  contain 
his  clearest  utterances.  From  these  I  quote  briefly: 
"  Like  children,  you  are  haunted  with  a  fear,  that 
when  the  soul  leaves  the  body,  the  wind  may  really 
blow  her  away  and  scatter  her,  especially  if  a  man 
should  happen  to  die  in  stormy  weather,  and  not 
when  the  sky  is  calm.  That  soul  which  is  pure,  her- 
self invisible,  departs  to  the  invisible  world.  Thither 
arriving,  she  lives  in  bliss  and  is  released  from  the 
error  and  folly  of  men,  their  fears  and  wild  passions, 
and  all  other  human  ills,  and  forever  dwells  in  com- 
pany with  the  gods."  "  Those  who  are  remarkable 
for  having  led  holy  lives  are  released  from  this 
earthly  prison,  and  go  to  their  pure  home,  which  is 
above,  and  dwell  in  the  purer  earth.  And  those  who 
have  duly  purified  themselves  with  philosophy,  live 
henceforth  altogether  without  the  body,  in  mansions 
fairer  than  these,  which  may  not  be  described,  and 
of  which  the  time  would  fail  me  to  tell.  Those, 
again,  who  have  committed  crimes,  which,  although 
great,  are  not  unpardonable,  are  plunged  into  Tar- 


IMMORTALITY. 


315 


tarus,  the  pains  of  which  they  are  compelled  to 
undergo  for  a  year.  But  those  who  appear  to  be  in- 
curable, by  reason  of  the  greatness  of  their  crimes, 
are  hurled  into  Tartarus,  which  is  their  suitable  des- 
tiny, and  they  never  come  out."  "Either  death  is 
a  state  of  nothingness  and  utter  unconsciousness,  or 
there  is  a  change  and  migration  of  the  soul  from 
this  world  to  another.  Now,  if  you  suppose  that 
there  is  no  consciousness,  but  a  sleep  like  the  sleep 
of  him  who  is  undisturbed  even  by  the  sight  of 
dreams,  death  will  be  an  unspeakable  gain.  But,  if 
death  is  the  journey  to  another  place,  what  good,  O 
my  friends  and  judges,  can  be  greater  than  this? 
If,  indeed,  when  the  pilgrim  arrives  in  the  world 
below,  he  is  delivered  from  the  professors  of  jus- 
tice in  this  world,  and  finds  the  true  judges  who  are 
said  to  give  judgment  there,  Minos  and  Rhadaman- 
thus  and  /Eacus  and  Triptolemus,  and  other  sons  of 
God,  who  were  righteous  in  their  own- life,  that  pil- 
grimage will  be  worth  making.  What  would  not  a 
man  give,  if  he  might  converse  with  Orpheus  and 
Musaeus  and  Hesiod  and  Homer?  Nay,  if  this  be 
true,  let  me  die  again  and  again." 

This  is  the  tide  mark  of  ancient  philosophy  on 
the  doctrine  in  question. 

Dropping  now,  for  a  few  moments  the  line  of  his- 
torical investigation  thus  far  pursued,  let  us  examine 
some  of  the  natural  suggestions  of  immortality. 
The  first  of  these  comes  from  a  study  of  the  consti- 
tution of  the  soul. 

Monism  or  Dualism?  Is  there  in  the  universe  but 
one  kind  of  substance,  or  are  there  two  kinds  of  sub- 
stances? This  question  has  crowded  itself  upon 
the  attention  of  men  in  every  generation.  Some  in 


316  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

every  generation  have  believed  that  there  is  only 
one  substance,  and  that  that  substance  is  matter. 
Some  in  every  generation  have  believed  that  there 
is  only  one  substance  and  that  that  substance  is  spir- 
it. But  the  vast  majority,  both  of  the  learned  and 
of  the  unlearned,  have  been  confident  that  there  are 
two  substances,  matter  and  spirit,  each  in  its  nature 
distinct  from  the  other.  According  to  this  creed, 
these  two  substances  are  closely  and  mysteriously 
united  in  the  earthly  life  of  man.  When  that  earthly 
life  ends,  what  is  the  fate  of  the  two  substances? 
What  becomes  of  the  matter?  What  becomes  of 
the  spirit?  The  two  evidently  part  company.  In 
the  article  of  death,  the  last  manifestation  of  the 
spirit  to  the  senses  disappears.  Then  the  material 
form  gradually  decays,  and  is  lost  sight  of  among 
the  elements.  Science  teaches  that  not  a  particle  is 
destroyed,  but  that  every  particle  is  put  to  use,  in 
some  of  the  various  economies  of  nature.  The  body, 
as  a  body,  is  gone  forever;  but  its  component  parts 
continue  to  exist  eternally,  in  ever  changing  com- 
binations. 

The  spirit,  however,  eludes  all  the  tests  of  physi- 
cal science.  Does,  then,  death  end  all  spiritual  ex- 
istence? Such  inquiries  will  not  be  hushed.  They 
clamor  importunately  for  an  answer  in  every  age. 
Many,  even  of  those  who  have  regarded  matter  and 
spirit  as  one,  have  recoiled  from  the  thought  of  the 
utter  extinction  of  the  latter,  and  have  maintained 
that,  on  the  dissolution  of  body  and  soul,  the  spirit, 
in  some  mysterious  way,  associates  itself  with  the 
less  gross  and  tangible  material  forms  of  earth,  or 
air,  or  cloud,  or  fire. 

This  was,  more  especially,  the   doctrine  of  ancient 


IMMORTALITY.  317 

materialists.  Modern  materialists,  under  the  lead- 
ership of  such  men  as  Bain,  indulge  less  in  such 
speculations.  Take  the  following  favorite  defini- 
tion: 

"There  is  one  substance  with  two  sets  of  proper- 
ties, two  sides,  the  physical  and  the  mental,  a 
double-faced  unity."  Logically,  such  a  definition, 
as  a  first  principle,  leads  to  the  creed,  that  the  earth- 
ly life  of  the  soul  is  the  limit  of  its  existence.  The 
materialist  of  to-day  does  usually  manifest  reluc- 
tance about  putting  the  doctrine  into  dogmatic 
form,  and  takes  refuge  in  an  agnosticism,  which  is, 
however,  very  transparent.  Every  man  does  know, 
and,  if  he  will  give  up  all  evasion  and  equivocation, 
he  must  acknowledge,  that,  if  matter  and  spirit  are 
nothing  but  a  "  two-faced  unity,  "  after  that  unity  is 
destroyed,  nothing  worthy  of  the  name  of  existence 
can  be  properly  predicated  of  spirit.  There  is  no 
plausibilitv  in  any  argument  for  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  unless  you  condition  it  on  the  assumption 
of  dualism,  of  the  doctrine  of  two  essentially  differ- 
ent substances. 

But  the  granting  of  this  postulate  by  no  means 
establishes  the  doctrine.  It  only  removes  you  from 
ground  where  proof  is  impossible,  to  ground  where 
proof  is  possible.  It  is  not  conceivable  that  the 
same  substance  can  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time. 
When,  however,  the  admission  is  made,  that  there 
are  two  substances  distinct  from  each  other,  you 
can,  without  any  inconsistency,  claim  that  the  de- 
struction of  one  does  not  necessitate  the  'destruction 
of  the  other.  But,  whether  the  destruction  of  the 
one  is,  in  fact,  accompanied  by  the  destruction  of 
the  other,  is  still  an  open  question.  To  settle  that 


318  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

question,  neither  mathematical  demonstration,  nor 
chemical  tests,  can  be  employed.  The  argument 
must  be  one  of  analogies  and  probabilities.  You 
cannot  be  too  cautious  in  choosing  your  analogies. 
A  captivating  analogy  often  leads  to  a  conclusion 
not  anticipated.  For  instance,  it  was  a  favorite 
idea  with  many  of  the  ancients,  that  the  relation  of 
the  spirit  to  the  body,  was  like  that  of  music  to  a 
musical  instrument.  At  the  first  blush,  the  thought 
is  very  pleasing.  But  to  what  doctrine  does  it  lead? 
When  you  destroy  the  instrument,  do  you  not  de- 
stroy the  music?  It  is  obvious  that  such  an  anal- 
ogy, if  accepted,  would  be  subversive  of  the  doctrine 
of  immortality. 

The  instrument  and  the  music  are,  at  the  first 
glance,  seemingly  so  different,  that  you  may  sup- 
pose yourself  in  the  presence  of  two  substances,  but 
closer  inspection  shows  that  you  have  before  you 
only  two  different  manifestations  of  the  same  sub- 
stance, one  revealed  through  the  sense  of  touch,  the 
other  through  the  sense  of  hearing. 

Now  change  the  analogy  thus:  consider  the  re- 
lation of  the  spirit  to  the  body  like  that  of  the  mu- 
sician to  the  instrument.  Then  make  the  analysis, 
and  you  find  two  distinct  factors.  Deistroy  the  mu- 
sician and  the  instrument  may  remain.  Destroy  the 
instrument  and  the  musician  may  survive. 

Make  another  supposition:  consider  the  relation 
of  the  spirit  to  the  body  like  that  of  the  musician  to 
the  music.  You  still  have  two  things  distinct  in 
kind.  Destroy  the  musician  and  the  music  is  de- 
stroyed. But,  in  destroying  the  music,  you  may,  or 
you  may  not  destroy  the  musician.  Everyone 
would  consider  this  third  analogy  unsatisfactory. 


IMMORTALITY. 

You  feel  that  there  is  no  propriety  in  saying  that 
the  body  is  the  product  of  the  spirit,  as  music  is  the 
product  of  the  player  or  singer.  Let  us  revert,  then, 
to  the  second  analogy.  That  cannot  be  made  to  go 
on  all  fours,  still  it  is  fairly  satisfactory.  Conscious- 
ness testifies  that  the  spirit  does  use  the  body,  as  the 
violinist  uses  the  violin,  to  accomplish  certain  pur- 
poses. In  either  case,  the  excellence  of  the  instru- 
ment is  essential  to  the  excellence  of  the  product. 
Spirit  prizes  a  perfect  organism,  just  as  the  violinist 
prizes  a  Cremona.  Still,  fine  spirit  may  work  won- 
ders with  an  unstrung  organism,  just  as  the  skillful 
performer  may  astonish  us  on  a  cheap  fiddle.  An 
artist  will  do  better  with  a  cheap  fiddle,  than  a 
bungler  with  a  Cremona.  Moreover,  in  the  case  of 
the  poorest  performer  with  the  poorest  instrument, 
it  is  always  the  fiddler,  and  not  the  fiddle,  that  holds 
the  bow.  Spirit  rules.  Body  is  ruled. 

In  a  general  way  the  parallel  holds  good.  As  we 
proceed,  however,  we  must  not  lean  too  heavily  upon 
any  figure  of  speech.  We  know  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  musician  does  not  necessitate  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  instrument,  and  that  the  destruction  of 
the  instrument  does  not  necessitate  the  destruction 
of  the  musician.  Unquestionably,  each  may  exist 
without  the  other.  But  can  we  say  with  equal  cer- 
tainty, that  the  body  can  exist  without  the  spirit,  and 
that  the  spirit  can  exist  without  the  body?  We 
should  trust  analogy  no  further.  At  this  point  we 
must  abandon  rhetorical  language.  We  first  turn  to 
experience  for  light.  We  see  the  musician  de- 
stroyed, yet  the  instrument  remains  unharmed.  But 
so  soon  as  the  spirit  quits  the  body,  we  invariably 
find  that  the  body  begins  to  decay.  We  may  say 


320  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

that,  theoretically,  this  is  not  necessary,  still,  prac- 
tically, it  always  takes  place,  when  nature  has  her 
way.  It  is  conceivable,  that  the  body  might  remain 
precisely  the  way  it  is,  yet  it  never  does. 

Again,  we  see  the  instrument  destroyed,  and  the 
musician  live  on.  But,  when  we  see  the  body  de- 
stroyed, we  do  not  ever  see  the  spirit  live  on.  On 
the  other  hand,  we  never  witness  the  dissolution  of 
the  spirit.  We  are  here  upon  the  border  line  of  a 
different  realm.  We  cannot  declare  with  absolute 
certainty,  either  that  the  soul  lives,  or  that  it  dies. 
Having,  now,  passed  beyond  the  province  of  expe- 
rience, we  must  construct  our  argument  of  probabili- 
ties. The  spirit  may  live  on.  Is  it  likely  that  it 
does  live  on? 

We  find  in  every  sound  mind  a  passionate  desire 
for  immortality.  How  shall  that  desire  be  inter- 
preted? Is  the  desire  a  reasonable  ground  for  the 
belief?  No  one  would  be  so  foolish,  as  to  maintain 
that  a  desire  is  in  itself  conclusive  proof  of  the  real- 
ity of  its  object.  Numerous  instances  might  be 
cited  in  which  individuals  and  even  large  bodies  of 
men  have  cherished  desires,  which  reached  out  after 
nothing  but  the  most  mocking  delusions.  But  when 
you  come  to  a  desire  which  is  universal,  you  touch 
the  vital  chord  which  throbs  eternally  between  the 
heart  of  man  and  the  heart  of  the  ever-living  God. 
The  pulsations  may  be  quick,  full,  distinct,  exultant, 
or  they  may  be  sluggish,  thin,  nerveless,  despond- 
ent: but  the  current  never  ceases  utterly  between 
finite  spirits  here  and  the  Infinite  Spirit  yonder.  The 
legitimate  and  natural  product  is  belief  in  immortality, 
That  belief  may  range  from  vague  conjecture  to 
clearest  convictio'n;  but  some  degree  is  found 


IMMORTALITY. 


321 


whether  you  turn  to  barbarism,  or  civilization, 
whether  you  question  the  clown,  the  poet,  or  the  , 
philosopher.  From  the  very  nature  of  the  human 
constitution,  we  are  compelled  to  trust  this  uni- 
versal teaching  of  this  universal  desire.  We  have 
reached  a  fact  beyond  which  we  cannot  go,  and 
which  it  is  the  highest  wisdom  to  accept  with  all  its 
consequences. 

This  belief  is  confirmed  by  several  suggestions. 
It  meets  our  sense  of  justice.  If  death  ends  all,  our 
ideas  of  fairness  are  outraged.  The  earthly  life  of 
the  wicked  and  the  righteous  arraigns  the  righteous- 
ness of  God's  government.  The  prosperity  of  the 
bad  and  the  misfortune  of  the  good  have  no  solu- 
tion, unless  there  be  a  future  life  to  rectify  the  evils 
of  this.  The  Creator's  present  administration  is 
subversive  of  every  conception  of  right  and  wrong, 
if  the  soul  perishes  with  the  body.  Yet  these  diffi- 
culties find  easy  solution  in  the  glory  of  the  ever- 
lasting. Of  what  consequence  are  the  privations 
of  the  virtuous  or  the  gratifications  of  the  vicious, 
if  the  possibilities  of  seventy  years  be  set  over 
against  the  possibilities  of  eternity? 

But  it  is  when  we  study  the  highest  capacities  and 
aspirations  of  the  soul,  that  natural  theology  de- 
clares most  clearly,  that  a  benevolent  Creator  ca*n 
not  excite  his  creatures  with  such  entrancing  visions 
and  then  overwhelm  them  with  despair.  That  is 
God's  own  voice,  not  articulate  to  a  listening  world, 
not  committed  to  any  Holy  Scriptures  to  be  read 
from  generation  to  generation,  but  speaking  to  the 
heart  of  hearts,  as  a  revelation  direct  and  personal, 
whenever  there  open  out  before  the  soul  the  shining 
possibilities  of  knowing  and  being  and  doing,  world 


322  SEBMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

without  end.  There  you  reach  the  richest  interpre- 
tation of  the  power  of  the  everlasting  life.  Wher- 
ever, since  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  man  or 
woman  has  asked  the  question,  "WHAT  is  TRUTH?' 
and  has  patiently  sought  the  answer,  and  has  beaten 
against  the  bars  of  the  earthy  and  has  confronted 
the  limits  of  time,  the  Comforter  has  whispered  IM- 
MORTALITY! 

Wherever  man  or  woman  has  been  profoundly 
moved  to  become  strong,  pure,  beneficent,  radiant 
in  character;  but  from  weakness  and  passion  and  sel- 
fishness and  sordidness  has  been  grievously  disap- 
pointed in  the  result,  and  has  been  sorely  tempted 
to  abandon  the  ideal,  the  Comforter  has  whispered 
IMMORTALITY! 

Wherever  man  or  woman  has  caught  the  inspira- 
tion of  service,  and  has  longed  to  do  something  for 
the  permanent  well-being  of  self  and  of  others,  and 
after  unspeakable  weariness  and  painfulness,  has 
looked  upon  meager  accomplishment,  and  has  cried 
in  bitterness,  what  doth  it  profit?  Let  me  eat  and 
drink  for  to-morrow  I  die!  The  Comforter  has  whis- 
pered IMMORTALITY! 

But,  not  content  with  this  whisper  of  the  Infinite 
Spirit  to  the  finite  spirit,  a  compassionate  God, 
manifesting  himself  in  the  flesh,  proclaims  aloud 
from  the  lips  of  Christ  to  all  that  have  ears  to  hear: 
"I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  Because  I  live 
ye  shall  live  also.  In  my  Father's  house  are  many 
mansions.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  I  will 
come  again  and  receive  you  unto  myself,  that  where 
I  am  there  ye  may  be  also, — that  where  I  am  there 
ye  may  be  also." 

Prepare  us,  Lord,  for  this  Thy  promised  appearing.     Some, 


IMMORTALITY. 


323 


worn  with  the  cares  of  life,  may  long  to  be  transferred  to  activ- 
ities which  are  free  from  weariness  and  disappointments. 
May  such  more  cheerfully  obey  the  command:  "Tarry  pa- 
tiently till  I  come."  Others  cling  eagerly  to  the  present  known, 
and  shrink  apprehensively  from  the  future  unknown.  Confirm 
their  faith  so  that  they  may  be  able  to  say:  "Though  I  walk 
through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil: 
for  thou  art  with  me." — Amen. 


DIFFERENTIATION    IN    EDUCATION.* 

Specialization  is  becoming  year  by  year  more 
narrow  and  inflexible,  in  all  complex  mechanical  oc- 
cupations. The  workman  is  increasingly  restricted, 
in  the  scope  of  his  activities.  The  shoe-maker  no 
longer  makes  a  shoe,  the  watch-maker  no  longer 
makes  a  watch.  To-day,  the  former  may  fit  a  heel, 
or  a  sole,  the  latter  may  attach  the  three  hands,  but, 
to-morrow,  the  former  will  only  cut  out  a  piece  for 
a  heel  or  a  sole,  while  the  latter  will  be  confined  to 
the  second-hand.  Great  factories,  employing  hun- 
dreds of  operatives,  are  turning  out  thousands  of 
shoes  and  watches.  These  articles  are  finer  in  quality 
and  vastly  more  numerous  in  quantity,  than  could  be 
produced  when  one  man  prepared,  or  at  least  ad- 
justed, all  of  the  pieces  in  succession.  On  the  score 
of  economics,  the  new  way  is  immensely  superior  to 
the  old  way.  No  one  would  for  a  moment  advocate 
a  return  to  the  primitive  method.  It  is  true,  that, 
while  the  world  is  so  much  the  gainer,  the  individual 
workman  is  in  one  direction  greatly  the  loser.  He 
does  get  his  proportion  of  the  general  benefit  caused 
by  a  wide-spread  division  of  labor,  but  he  suffers 
from  the  dwarfing  of  his  intellectual  faculties,  by 
their  being  withdrawn  from  a  variety  of  planning  and 
executing,  and  concentrated  upon  a  single  move- 
ment which  presently  becomes  virtually  automatic. 


*  An  Address  delivered  December  joth,  1891,  by  Dr.  Tanner, 
as  president  of  the  College  Branch  of  the  State  Teachers' 
Associalion. 


DIFFERENTIATION  IN  EDUCATION.  325 

The  law  of  economics  is  deaf  to  his  prayer  for  relief. 
The  law  of  economics  cares  only  for  the  quality  and 
the  quantity  of  the  product.  The  law  of  economics 
is  interested  in  the  efficiency  of  the  factory,  and  not 
in  the  condition  of  the  operative.  Such  help  as  the 
latter  gets  must  come  from  sociology,  which  steps  in 
and  says:  "Let  the  hours  be  shortened  during  which 
the  man  or  the  woman  is  driven  as  a  part  of  a  great 
machine,  so  that  the  man  or  the  woman  may  find, 
outside  the  factory,  opportunities  for  mental  as  well 
as  physical  flexibility  and  refreshment." 

Now,  corresponding  with  the  specialization  which 
is  going  on  in  the  mechanical  world,  is  the  differenti- 
ation which  is  taking  place  in  the  educational  world, 
though,  in  the  latter,  the  movement  is  less  rapid  and 
the  revolution  less  complete.  This  contrast  also 
should  be  noticed:  in  the  mechanical  world,  the 
specialization  is  more  perfect  in  the  higher  depart- 
ments, while  in  the  educational  world  the  differenti- 
ation is  more  satisfactory  in  the  lower  departments. 

Let  us  see  whether  analysis  will  verify  these 
statements.  Begin  with  the  kindergarten.  Its  prov- 
ince is  sharply  defined.  It  covers  the  narrow  space 
between  the  nursery  and  the  public  school,  and  con- 
fines itself  to  the  object  lesson  method.  The  nervous 
vitality  and  the  rich  personality  of  the  teacher  are 
daily  exhausted  for  the  children. 

Advance  a  little  and  you  come  to  the  common 
school.  Here  the  grades  vary  from  four  to  eight, 
according  to  population,  wealth  and  cultivation. 
Educators  discovered  long  ago  that  it  was  a  great 
waste  of  time  and  money,  for  the  same  teacher  to  try 
to  carry  pupils  of  all  ages  over  the  whole  territory 
occupied  by  the  English  branches,  and  that  the  best 


326  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

results  were  reached  where  six  or  eight  grades  could 
be  established  with  from  thirty  to  forty  pupils  each, 
under  a  competent  instructor.  There  is  very  little 
disposition  to  mix  these  grades.  The  lower,  instead 
of  encroaching  upon  the  province  of  the  higher,  seek 
to  get  better  results  within  their  own  territory.  The 
line  of  distribution  may,  therefore,  be  considered 
virtually  established. 

Take,  next,  the  high  schools.  Their  boundaries 
are  not  so  accurately  marked  out  as  those  of  the 
grammar  schools,  still  their  functions  are  becoming 
more  and  more  clear.  They  have  two  offices — one 
to  fit  students  to  enter  college,  the  other  to  give 
creditable  training  in  mathematics,  science,  English 
literature  and  one  or  two  languages,  ancient  or  mod- 
ern, to  a  large  number  of  young  men  and  women, 
who  are  unable  or  unwilling  to  pursue  a  college  ed- 
ucation. 

The  ideal  location  for  a  high  school  is  in  a  city  of 
from  twenty  to  forty  thousand  inhabitants,  for  there 
it  may  be  made  supreme  as  an  object  of  municipal 
affection  and  pride.  Still,  the  high  school  will  flourish 
in  the  largest  cities,  and  it  may  be  made  to  do  ex- 
cellent service  in  towns  of  two  or  three  thousand  in- 
habitants. But  this  institution  falls  easily  into  one 
temptation.  Patrons,  pupils  and  teacher's  are  prone 
to  exaggerate  its  relative  importance,  and  to  try  to 
create  the  impression  that  it  virtually  covers  college 
territory.  The  merits  of  the  high  school  are  many 
and  great,  but  it  is  preposterous  to  claim  that  it 
either  does  discharge  or  can  discharge  college  func- 
tions. Its  wisest  friends  will  discourage  all  such 
false  pretenses. 

In  the  domain  of  the  secondary  education,  we  first 


DIFFERENTIA  TION  IN  ED  UCA  TION.  327 

encounter  the  disposition  to  assume  illegitimate  pre- 
rogatives. 

This  tendency  that  we  have  noticed  in  the  high 
school,  is  still  more  manifest  in  the  academy.  Some 
consider  the  academy  superfluous,  now  that  the  high 
school  is  well  established,  but  it  is  still  an  important 
part  of  our  educational  system.  Let  it,  however, 
confine  itself  to  its  proper  office.  An  academy  should 
consider  it  glory  enough,  to  be  an  academy,  without 
trying  to  create  the  impression  that  it  is  virtually  a 
college.  You  rejoice  whenever  you  hear  of  the  found- 
ing of  a  Christian  academy,  but,  when  its  ambitious 
friends  proceed  to  christen  it  as  the  Smith,  or  Jones, 
COLLEGIATE  INSTITUTE,  how  can  you  help  blushing 
for  the  honor  of  liberal  learning?  Such  a  misnomer 
leads  the  multitude  to  suppose  that  there  is  no  line 
of  distinction  between  the  secondary  and  the  higher 
education.  It  is  a  much  greater  honor  to  be  an  in- 
structor, or  a  pupil,  in  the  John  Doe  Academy,  than 
to  be  an  instructor,  or  a  pupil,  in  the  John  Doe 
COLLEGIATE  INSTITUTE.  Would  that  the  average 
American  citizen  could  realize  that  fact!  Further- 
more, when  an  academy  can  have  suitable  buildings, 
and  equipments,  and  a  strong  corps  of  instructors, 
without  connection  with  any  college,  that  is  unques- 
tionably the  best  arrangement,  from  the  stand-point 
of  the  secondary  education.  Teachers  will  take 
greater  interest  in  their  work;  pupils  will  feel  more 
pride  in  the  school;  there  will  be  less  perplexity  in 
discipline,  because  scholars  are  more  nearly  of  the 
same  age  and  attainments.  In  short,  the  institution 
will  have  an  individuality  and  dignity  impossible 
where  the  academy  is  an  attachment  to  a  college, 


328  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

and  conducted,  primarily  in  the  interests  of  the 
latter. 

But,  in  this  region  at  least,  for  many  years  most  of 
our  academies  will  be  too  weak  to  stand  alone,  and 
will  have  to  be  carried  on  in  close  connection  with 
institutions  of  higher  learning,  chiefly  as  preparatory 
schools.  They  were  established  for  that  purpose 
mainly,  and  they  must  be  so  maintained,  while  nec- 
essary as  recruiting  stations  for  the  colleges  to  which 
they  respectively  belong.  Though  this  arrangement 
is  theoretically  faulty,  it  has  some  decided  practical 
advantages.  You  who  are  present  will  testify,  that 
the  students  who  enter  your  college  classes  with  the 
best  preparation,  are  those  whom  you  have  trained 
in  your  own  preparatory  departments,  and  that,  un- 
der existing  conditions,  it  would  seriously  cripple 
your  higher  work,  if  those  departments  were  abol- 
ished. It  is  fortunate  for  a  boy  to  have  his  prelim- 
inary training  under  the  same  professors  who  are  to 
be  his  guides  throughout  his  undergraduate  course. 
This  promotes  unity  in  plan  and  thoroughness  in 
execution.  The  situation  should  not  be  irksome  to 
a  consecrated  instructor,  unless  he  finds  himself  so 
burdened  with  rudimentary  drill  that  he  has  not 
sufficient  energy  for  his  duties  as  a  college  professor. 
That  danger  ought  to  be  narrowly  watched  in  the 
management  of  the  institution. 

But,  while  we  comfort  ourselves  thus,  and  submit 
to  the  inevitable  with  as  good  grace  as  possible,  we 
need  not  forget  that,  as  resources  multiply  and  pop- 
ulation becomes  more  dense,  it  will  in  time  be  prac- 
ticable to  separate  the  academy  and  the  college,  as 
the  two  are  made  independent  in  the  Eastern  and 
Middle  states,  and  let  them  thus  discharge  their  re- 


DIFFERENTIA  TION  IN  ED  UCA  TION.  329 

spective  functions.  It  will  be  a  happy  day  when 
both  can  be  brought  rigidly  under  the  law  of  differ- 
entiation. 

I  spoke  a  few  moments  ago  of  the  foolish  ambition 
of  the  academy  to  be  considered  a  college,  and  of 
the  damage  done  in  that  way  to  liberal  learning. 
What,  next,  shall  be  said  of  the  college  which  calls 
itself  a  university,  though,  from  one  year's  end  to 
another,  it  either  gives  no  university  instruction,  or 
only  the  merest  smattering  thereof?  The  writer 
once  served  as  the  Latin  professor  in  such  an  institu- 
tion. Creditable  college  work  was  done,  but  nothing 
more.  Whenever  our  university  was  mentioned,  these 
cheeks  blushed  at  the  misnomer.  It  may  be  replied, 
that  such  sensitiveness  was  foolish;  that  in  calling 
men  and  women  saints,  we  speak,  not  accurately,  but 
prophetically;  that  the  university  title  is  usually  be- 
stowed on  account  of  the  great  expectations  of  the 
founders,  who  anticipate  that,  in  the  course  of  gen- 
erations, or  centuries,  the  institution  will  in  its  pro- 
portions catch  up  with  its  high-sounding  appellation, 
and  that  by  giving  the  name  in  advance,  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  dream  may  in  some  way  be  quickened. 
But,  is  the  justification  sufficient;  is  the  argument 
sound?  Who  does  not  admire  the  pertinacity  with 
which  Yale  has  clung  to  the  modest  words,  Yale 
College,  until  the  multiplication  of  her  resources  and 
the  expansion  of  her  activities  have  begun  to  make 
the  university  title  appropriate?  Who  supposes  that 
she  would  have  reached  that  dignity  any  sooner,  had 
she  been  called  a  university,  from  the  beginning? 
Contrast  what  Amherst  and  Williams  colleges  are, 
and  what  a  majority  of  our  so-called  universities  in 
the  Interior  and  the  West  are,  and  are  likely  to  con 


330  SERMONS   AND  ADDRESSES. 

tinue.  Would  it  not  be  a  sensible  thing  for  the  latter 
to  petition  the  legislatures  of  the  states  to  which 
they  belong,  to  permit  them  to  call  themselves,  for 
awhile,  what  they  are — colleges — and  to  resume  their 
present  ad  captandum  appellation,  when  they  begin 
to  furnish  respectable  facilities  for  graduate  instruc- 
tion? Do  not  charge  the  writer  with  lunacy  for 
making  such  a  suggestion.  He  has  not  gone  so  far 
daft,  as  to  suppose  that  the  Solons  of  Illinois  will  at 
the  next  session,  be  astounded  by  any  such  proposi- 
tion. "That  strange  spell,  a  name,"  has  such  power 
over,  not  only  ordinary  people,  but  also  over  extra- 
ordinary people,  that  we  may  well  despair  of  ever 
seeing  a  so-called  college  get  sufficient  dying  grace 
to  become  an  academy,  or  a  so-called  university  get 
sufficient  dying  grace  to  become  a  college,  though,  for 
the  sake  of  common  honesty,  and  for  the  honor  of  lib- 
eral learning,  both  consummations  were  devoutly  to 
be  wished. 

The  law  of  differentiation  is  the  law  of  progress 
in  the  higher  education.  Careful  analysis  separates 
the  college  idea  from  the  university  idea.  The  for- 
mer looks  to  the  boy,  the  latter  to  the  man.  The 
former  depends  chiefly  upon  the  recitation  method, 
the  latter  upon  the  lecture  method.  The  former  ex- 
alts discipline,  the  latter  exalts  information.  The 
former  is  the  logical  antecedent  of  the  latter.  Each 
will  produce  richer  fruits  when  severed  from  the 
other.  The  best  college  work  is  done  where  the 
university  idea  is  excluded.  The  best  university 
work  is  done  where  the  college  idea  is  excluded.  It 
is  my  belief  that,  in  the  future,  Williams  and  Am- 
herst  will  furnish  a  more  excellent  quality  of  strictly 
college  instruction  than  Yale  and  Harvard,  simply 


DIFFERENTIATION  IN  EDUCATION.  331 

because  that  is  the  highest  ambition  of  the  former, 
while  the  latter  are  captivated  by  the  university  idea. 
Moreover,  it  would  be  a  happy  change  for  the  latter 
if  they  could  henceforth  discontinue  their  under- 
graduate departments,  and  devote  their  vast  resources 
and  noble  material  and  intellectual  facilities  for  in- 
struction to  university  extension,  graduate  courses, 
and  the  ever-multiplying  and  expanding  realms  of 
original  research.  The  people  would  be  the  gainer, 
the  institutions  themselves  would  be  better  satisfied 
with  what  they  were  doing;  and  varied  and  profound 
scholarship  would  be  more  rapidly  promoted.  I  ad- 
mit that  such  a  separation  could  not  be  effected 
quickly.  Undergraduate  and  graduate  work  have 
become  as  closely  associated  in  those  institutions,  as 
preparatory  and  college  work  are  in  many  of  our  small 
institutions  in  the  interior.  Still,  in  the  course  of  time', 
such  severance  may  be  reached.  We  need  in  Amer- 
ica, as  soon  as  possible,  three  or  four  pure  universi- 
ties. At  present,  Clark  University  is  the  only  one 
which  adheres  rigidly  to  graduate  instruction  and 
original  research.  Johns  Hopkins  is  eager  to  reach 
the  same  liberty.  She  carries  her  undergraduate  de- 
partment under  protest.  The  consequence  is,  that 
she  suffers  in  both  directions,  and  it  is  probable  that, 
at  no  distant  date,  the  mixed  relation  at  Baltimore 
will  cease,  and  Johns  Hopkins  will  rejoice  in  the  real- 
ization of  her  ideal  of  a  pure  university. 

God  speed  the  day  !  Following  this  line  of  inves- 
tigation, I  hazard  the  prediction  that,  ultimately,  at 
Cambridge  and  New  Haven,  the  university  will  ex- 
clude the  college. 

Now,  bring  the  subject  nearer  home.  Differentia- 
tion has  made  fair  progress  in  Illinois,  but  the  time 


332  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

has  come  for  its  acceleration.  The  provinces  of  pri- 
mary, secondary  and  higher  education  should  be  more 
accurately  bounded,  and  more  generally  recognized. 
Let  the  high  school,  the  academy,  the  college,  and 
the  university  seek  clearer  conceptions  of  their  re- 
spective missions  in  the  world  of  mind,  magnify 
their  own  offices,  confine  themselves  to  those 
offices,  and  honor  one  another  in  the  discharge 
of  functions  to  which  they  can  themselves  make 
no  legitimate  claim.  As  representatives  of  the 
higher  education,  we  owe  to  the  primary  schools 
warmer  sympathy  and  more  fostering  care. 

We  ought  to  extend  a  more  helping  hand  to  all 
secondary  schools.  The  exhibition  of  an  apprecia- 
tive, co-operative  spirit  would  give  great  weight  to 
our  suggestions  concerning  the  limitations  and  the 
possibilities  of  our  high  schools  and  academies. 
Noblesse  oblige! 

But  have  we  not  something  to  do  besides  try- 
ing to  aid  in  fixing  the  boundaries  of  the  primary 
and  secondary  schools,  and  to  stimulate  the  latter  to 
greater  excellence  ? 

Consistency  requires  that  we  should  study  more 
carefully  the  mission  of  the  college  and  the  mission 
of  the  university.  We  shall  make  our  noblest  con- 
tribution to  liberal  learning  in  the  Prairie  State,  by 
holding  before  ourselves  and  our  fellow-citizens  the 
true  ideal  of  the  college  and  of  the  university,  and 
by  laboring  patiently  toward  its  realization  in  this 
dear  commonwealth. 

What,  now,  is  the  situation  within  our  borders? 
There  are,  with  college  or  university  names,  twenty- 
five  institutions  supported  by  private  benevolence. 
Half  of  these  are  doing  very  creditable  college 


DIFFERENTIATION  IN  EDUCATION.  333 

work.  Not  one  of  them  is,  to-day,  doing  enough  dis- 
tinctively university  work  to  make  the  university 
title  appropriate.  Not  more  than  three  have  suffi- 
cient income  to  support  a  strong  university  faculty, 
by  which  is  meant  a  faculty  of  distinguished  special- 
ists in  the  various  departments  of  erudition. 

For  the  sake  of  clearness,  let  me  separate  all  of  the 
institutions  outside  of  Chicago  and  its  vicinity,  from 
those  in  Chicago  and  its  vicinity.  Of  the  former, 
there  is  not  one  which  has,  or  seems  likely  to  have, 
in  the  near  future,  sufficient  to  sustain  the  eminent 
dignity  of  a  genuine  university.  I  believe  that  it 
would  be  better  for  every  one  of  them,  to  devote  it- 
self exclusively  to  college  functions.  I  know  that  it 
would  be  better  for  the  interests  of  the  higher  Chris- 
tian learning  in  the  State  of  Illinois.  This  is  deli- 
cate ground.  This  is  plain  talk.  But  those  present 
are  not  afraid  of  delicate  ground  and  of  plain  talk. 
Are  not  the  facts  as  stated?  Is  not  the  position 
sound? 

In  conclusion,  apply  the  lawof  differentiation  to  the 
three  other  institutions  in  Chicago  and  its  vicinity. 
Two  of  these  have  had  a  most  honorable  history. 
Prophecy  utters  daily  some  new  and  glowing  pre- 
diction over  the  cradle  of  the  other.  Now,  what 
would  be  best  for  Chicago  and  the  State  of  Illinois? 
Three  pure  universities?  Or,  three  mixed  colleges 
and  universities?  Or,  two  pure  colleges  and  one  pure 
university? 

The  law  of  differentiation  answers  unfalteringly: 

TWO  PURE  COLLEGES  AND    ONE   PURE    UNIVERSITY.       In 

the  minds  of  the  wisest  disinterested  educators,  the 
North-Western  and  Lake  Forest  have  gained  their 
reputation  chiefly  through  the  excellence  of  their 


334 


SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 


merely  college  work,  and  not  by  annexing  already 
established  professional  schools.  The  two  are,  as 
yet,  essentially  colleges.  For  the  proof  of  this  state- 
ment, devote  a  day  to  hard  study  of  their  catalogues 
for  1891.  The  speaker  has  no  doubt  that  the  finest 
possibilities  for  both  would  lie  in  concentrating 
their  energies  for  the  future  on  college  work.  The 
speaker  has  no  doubt  that  the  finest  possibilities  for 
Chicago  University  would  lie  in  concentrating  its 
energies,  from  the  beginning,  on  university  work. 
The  genius  of  Lake  Forest  and  the  North-Western 
is  the  college  genuis.  The  genius  of  Chicago  Uni- 
versity is  the  university  genius. 


THE  RELATION  OF  THE  CHURCH  TO  THE 
COLLEGE.* 

The  invitation  to  speak  upon  this  topic  came 
written  upon  the  letter-head  of  an  insurance  com- 
pany. That  fact,  seemingly  insignificant,  suggested, 
however,  the  general  outline  of  the  paper  now  pre- 
sented. Said  I  to  myself,  the  relation  between  the 
church  and  the  college,  is,  in  the  common  language 
of  insurance  circles,  emphatically,  a  relation  of 
"mutual  benefit." 

I  glanced  again  at  the  letter-head,  and  read  this 
motto:  "We  hold  thee  safe."  Said  I  to  myself, 
that  is  precisely  the  sentiment  which  the  churches 
should  cherish  toward  the  college,  and  which  the 
colleges  should  cherish  toward  the  church :  "  We 
hold  thee  safe." 

Your  attention  is  therefore  invited,  for  twenty 
minutes,  to  these  three  particulars:  mutual  benefit, 
mutual  danger  and  mutual  security. 

First:  as  a  matter  of  history,  what  have  the 
churches  done  for  the  colleges?  But  for  the  former, 
the  latter  would  never  have  come  into  existence. 
Take  a  dozen  typical  examples,  partly  from  the  East 
and  partly  from  the  West.  Within  twenty  years 
after  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  the  corner  stone  of 
Harvard  was  laid,  with  psalm  and  prayer,  by  those 
who  "dreaded  to  leave  an  illiterate  ministry  to  the 
churches,  when  their  ministers  should  lie  in  the 
dust."  Clergyman  and  layman  vied  with  each 

*An  Address  before  the  Congregational  Club  of  Chicago. 


336  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

other  in  Christian  liberality.  Rev.  John  Harvard 
gave  his  $4,000,  and  thus,  though  he  had  no  such 
thought,  secured  for  himself  what  is  to-day  the  most 
conspicuous  monument  on  the  western  continent. 
Then  there  was  his  humblier  brother  in  the  pulpit, 
who,  having  no  money,  sent  two  cows,  as  his  college 
offering.  And  the  lowing  of  the  kine  along  the 
River  Charles  was  like  the  lowing  of  the  kine,  as 
they  drew  the  ark  of  God  on  the  way  to  Beth- 
shemesh. 

Or,  again,  you  may  read  of  the  Christian  farmer, 
who  made  his  donation  of  $500,  to  be  paid  in  corn 
and  meal,  but  stipulated  that  the  college  should 
bear  the  cost  of  transportation,  thus  exhibiting  that 
combination  of  other-worldliness  and  worldliness, 
which  always  gives  the  Yankee  his  supremacy  con- 
cerning the  temporal  and  the  eternal. 

The  charter  of  Harvard  declares  this  to  be  the 
object  of  the  institution:  "The  education  of  the 
English  and  Indian  youth  of  the  country  in  knowl- 
edge and  godliness."  The  fervent  missionary  spirit 
of  the  enterprise  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  the  first 
brick  edifice,  having  rooms  for  twenty  aborigines, 
was  called  Indian  College.  There  Eliot's  Indian 
Bible  was  printed.  In  the  present  controversy  be- 
tween the  "  old"  education  and  the  "new,"  the  jeal- 
ous Yale  alumnus  will  subscribe  to  Cotton  Mather's 
general  declaration,  that  "  the  college  was  the  best 
thing  the  forefathers  ever  thought  of,"  but  will  re- 
strict the  application  to  his  own  alma  mater. 

Yale  was  abundantly  blessed  with  the  laying  on  of 
holy  hands  in  her  cradle.  The  republic  had  in  those 
days  her  Magi,  her  wise  men  of  worship  in  the  East. 
Says  Ridpath:  "  T  give  these  books  for  the  founding 


CHURCH  AND    COLLEGE. 


337 


of  a  college  in  this  colony.'  Such  were  the  words  of 
ten  ministers,  who  in  the  year  1700  assembled  at  the 
village  of  Branford,  a  few  miles  east  of  New  Haven. 
Each  of  the  worthy  fathers  deposited  a  few  books 
on  the  tab^e  around  which  they  were  sitting ;  such 
was  the  founding  of  Yale  College."  And  why  did 
they  thus  contribute  out  of  their  poverty?  That 
there  might  be  an  institution  for  the  training  of 
their  successors  in  the  sacred  office,  so  that  the  com- 
monwealth might  never  lack  a  learned  and  godly 
ministry.  The  spirit  of  the  pastor  became  the  spirit 
of  the  flock,  until,  from  all  the  hills  and  valleys  of 
Connecticut,  the  hard-earned  savings  of  the  men, 
the  contributions  of  the  widows,  salt-cellars,  spoons, 
plates,  old  pieces  of  silver  and  gold,  precious  from 
family  associations,  found  their  way  into  the  treas- 
ury, to  make  a  rich  amalgam  for  the  service  of  the 
Lord. 

Princeton  owed  its  origin  to  the  same  profound 
conviction,  that  an  able,  wise  and  orthodox  ministry 
could  be  provided  for  the  churches,  only  through 
the  Christian  college.  The  doctrine  of  Nassau  Hall 
thus  finds  expression  from  the  lips  of  President 
Witherspoon,  who  was  also  one  of  the  signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence :  "  Cursed  be  all  that 
learning  that  is  contrary  to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  cursed 
be  all  that  learning  that  is  not  coincident  with  the 
cross  of  Christ ;  cursed  be  all  that  learning  that  is 
not  subservient  to  the  cross  of  Christ."  In  the  life 
of  Doctor  Charles  Hodge,  you  may  find  abundant 
and  emphatic  endorsement  of  these  as  the  gov- 
erning principles  of  the  institution,  from  the  begin- 
ning. 

As  the  eighteenth  century  opened  with  the  found- 


338  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ing  of  Yale,  so  it  closed  with  the  founding  of  Will- 
iams. Williams  also  was  given  by  the  churches  for 
the  churches.  No  other  motive  would  have  planted 
it  among  the  bleak  and  rugged  mountains  of  North- 
western Massachussetts.  The  men  of  that  genera- 
tion seem  to  have  been  divinely  impressed  with  the 
idea,  that  the  part  of  Berkshire  County,  where  noth- 
ing else  would  grow,  would  produce  the  richest 
annual  crop  of  candidates  for  the  Christian  ministry. 

Read  Professor  Tyler's  "History  of  Amherst,"  till 
you  are  brought  into  the  presence  of  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards, the  genius  of  that  region,  facile  princeps  among 
the  brethern.  A  '•  charity  fund"  was  the  corner  stone 
of  the  college.  Said  a  speaker  on  the  day  of 
dedication  :  "  This  is  an  institution,  in  some  respects 
like  no  other  that  ever  rose,  designed  to  bestow, 
gratis,  a  liberal  education  upon  those  who  will  enter 
the  gospel  ministry,  but  who  are  too  indigent  to  de- 
fray the  expense  of  their  own  induction.  It  has 
been  founded  and  must  rise  by  charity.  And  any 
man  who  shall  bring  abeam  or  a  rock,  who  shall  lay 
a  stone  or  drive  a  nail,  from  love  to  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  shall  not  fail  of  his  reward." 

And  then  the  same  enthusiam  of  humanity  and 
Christianity  swept  westward  and  the  churches  gave 
to  Ohio  its  Oberlin,  and  to  Illinois  its  Illinois,  and  to 
Wisconsin  its  Beloit,  and  to  Iowa  its  Iowa,  and  to 
Indiana  its  Wabash,  and  to  Michigan  its  Olivet,  and 
to  Minnesota  its  Carleton  and  to  Missouri  its  Drury. 
There  are  in  this  region  other  colleges  equally 
worthy,  but  limited  time  compels  me  to  bring  in 
only  the  nearest  states,  and  to  let  one  college  in  each 
of  those  states  stand  for  all.  If  you  will  examine 
the  early  records  of  any  of  these  institutions,  as  I 


CHURCH  AND  COLLEGE.  339 

have  done  in  more  than  one  instance,  you  will  find 
those  documents  fragrant  of  the  Mayflower.  The 
younger  Pilgrims  brought  these  colleges  hither  with 
them,  just  as  the  older  Pilgrims  brought  those  col- 
leges with  them  across  the  sea. 

o 

Such  has  been  the  service  of  the  American 
churches  to  the  American  colleges.  What  have  the 
latter  done  for  the  former?  Has  the  benefit  been 
mutual? 

From  some  cyclopedia  or  biography,  I  might 
bring  before  you  an  illustrious  succession  of  college- 
bred  laymen,  who  have  thought  out  and  ex- 
ecuted the  noblest  plans  for  the  advancement  of 
Christian  civilization.  From  the  annals  of  the  pul- 
pit, I  might  make  a  long  catalogue  of  shiningnames, 
which  the  colleges  have  given  to  the  churches.  I 
might  take  you  to  old  Williams,  the  birthplace  of 
foreign  missions,  and  bid  you  listen  to  the  testi- 
mony of  President  Hopkins,  the  greatest  teacher  of. 
the  century  on  this  continent. 

But  we  need  not  go  so  far.  Run  the  eye  down  the  list 
of  our  own  ministers  in  Illinois.  Anticipate,  in  vision, 
the  approaching  meeting  of  the  State  Association. 
Many,  possibly  all  of  the  colleges  mentioned,  and 
others,  likewise,  are  represented  by  their  alumni. 
Some  of  these  are  Christian  laymen,  trained  in  these 
Christian  colleges,  and  given  back  to  the  churches 
to  do  the  Master's  work  here,  in  this  heart  of  the 
continent,  with  all  its  magnificent  possibilities. 

Others,  again,  are  professors  in  your  theological 
seminary,  and  pastors  of  your  churches;  men  at 
whose  feet  you  love  to  sit,  men  who  are  honored 
throughout  the  commonwealth,  and  throughout  the 
republic. 


3-j.O  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

God  forbid,  that  representing  the  learning  called 
liberal,  I  should  be  so  narrow  in  thought  as  to  under- 
estimate the  religious  devotion,  and  the  far-sighted 
benevolence  of  Christian  laymen,  who  have  got 
their  education  outside  of  college  walls.  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  speak  except  in  thanksgiving,  of 
the  labors  of  the  greater  and  the  lesser  evangelists 
who  had  no  personal  acquaintance  with  academy,  and 
college  and  theological  seminary  At  the  same  time, 
I  submit  it  as  a  self-evident  proposition,  a  proposi- 
tion which  these  self-taught  laymen  and  evangelists 
will  themselves  subscribe  to,  that  the  wisest  Chris- 
tian philanthropies,  and  the  most  beneficent  Chris- 
tian organizations  have  sprung  from  the  consecrated 
heart  and  the  patiently  disciplined  intellect  of  the 
laymen  and  the  ministers  whom  the  colleges  have 
prepared  for  the  service  of  the  churches. 

Second!  Advance,  now,  from  this  idea  of  mutual 
benefit  to  the  idea  of  mutual  danger.  The  old  bond 
between  the  churches  and  the  colleges  is  growing 
weaker,  and  both  are  to  blame  for  this  increasing 
indifference.  Waxing  fat  is  acting  upon  some  of  our 
colleges,  as  waxing  fat  acted  upon  Jeshurun.  They 
begin  to  look  half  contemptuously  on  their  humble, 
Christian  origin.  Non-religious  elements  are  find- 
ing their  way  into  boards  of  trust.  An  ambition  to 
multiply  departments,  to  rear  costly  edifices  and  to 
make  a  grand  parade  of  all  the  appliances  of  knowl- 
edge, is  over-shadowing  the  profoundly  religious 
spirit  of  an  earlier  period.  In  constituting  faculties, 
the  spiritual  qualifications  of  candidates  were  once 
made  primary,  the  intellectual,  secondary;  now  the 
order  is  too  often  reversed.  This  sentiment  filters 


CHURCH  AND  COLLEGE.  341 

down  and   flows   in   hidden   channels    through    the 
minds  of  those  who  receive  instruction. 

If  you  will  compare  the  earlier  with  the  later  cat- 
alogues of  our  wealthier  institutions,  you  will  find 
the  proportion  of  ministerial  trustees  greatly  dimin- 
ished, unless,  as  in  the  case  of  Yale,  the  number  was 
fixed  in  the  original  charter.  Still  more  noticea- 
ble will  be  the  lessened  ratio  of  ministerial  profess- 
ors; and,  most  of  all,  will  you  be  impressed  with 
the  falling  off  of  young  men  who  are  studying  with 
the  ministry  in  view.  We  have  seen  how  promi- 
nent a  part  the  idea  of  preparing  students  for  a  the- 
ological course,  had  in  the  founding  of  these  institu- 
tions. It  is  obvious,  that  in  proportion  as  that  idea 
is  obscured,  the  interest  of  the  churches  in  the 
colleges  will  decline. 

What  should  the  colleges  do  to  check  this  ten- 
dency? While  there  is  an  advantage  in  having  the 
pastors  of  the  churches  the  trustees  of  colleges, 
since  they  are  more  likely  than  others  to  keep  the 
institutions  before  the  minds  of  their  flocks,  and 
since  from  their  training  they  are  more  familiar 
with  educational  questions;  still  the  functions  of  the 
trustees  are  essentially  business  functions,  and,  as 
the  resources  of  the  corporations  increase,  business 
men  will  become  their  natural  guardians.  But  the 
colleges  ought  to  pledge  the  churches,  that  boards 
of  trust  shall  be  composed  entirely,  or  almost  entire- 
ly, of  wise  and  earnest  Christian  men. 

What,  next,  is  the  duty  of  such  trustees  to  the 
churches  in  the  appointment  of  instructors?  A 
board  of  trust  in  a  Christian  college  ought  to  make 
it  an  inflexible  rule,  never  to  elect  to  a  professor- 


342  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ship  one  whom  they  do  not  believe  to  be  a  genuine 
Christian.  It  is  not  essential,  that  a  faculty  should 
be  largely  made  up  of  those  taken  from  the  minis- 
try. There  are  a  few  departments  for  which  theo- 
logical and  pastoral  training  is  excellent  prepara- 
tion. But  the  sciences  are  becoming  so  differentiated, 
division  of  intellectual  labor  is  marking  out  so  many 
separate  provinces  of  investigation,  that  specialists 
must  be  sought  more  and  more  for  chairs  of  instruc- 
tion. The  churches  ought  to  recognize  this  limita- 
tion in  the  range  of  choice,  and  ought  to  be  satisfied, 
provided  none  but  reverent,  out-spoken  Christian 
men  be  admitted  to  the  college  faculties.  Since  this 
is,  and  must  be  the  situation,  the  churches  cannot 
expect  that  within  these  institutions,  as  they  grow 
older,  so  strong  a  pressure  will  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  students,  to  crowd  them  into  the  ministry,  as 
was  inevitable,  when  the  ministerial  professors  out- 
numbered all  others. 

College  presidents  and  professors  deeply  deplore 
the  present  drift  of  their  strongest  men  away  from 
the  theological  seminaries  and  the  ministry,  the  no- 
blest vocation  on  earth.  Business,  law,  journalism 
and  literature  are  attracting  not  a  few  who  are  called 
of  God  to  preach  the  gospel.  The  general  religious 
life  of  our  institutions  of  higher  learning  is  improv- 
ing. As  a  rule,  the  number  of  professing  Chris- 
tians steadily  increases.  Still,  nowhere  do  we  dis- 
cover the  old  percentage  of  candidates  for  the  min- 
istry. But  we  are  laboring  and  praying  for  such  a 
baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  such  a  manifestation  of 
the  constraining  power  of  the  love  of  Christ  among 
our  young  men,  that  those  brightest  in  intellect  and 
purest  in  heart  shall  fill  our  theological  seminaries 


CHURCH  AND  COLLEGE.  343 

to  overflowing,  to  the  joy   of  the  churches  and  the 
glory  of  the  Redeemer. 

But,  while  this  tendency  to  separation  between 
the  colleges  and  the  churches  is  due  in  part  to  the 
waning  supremacy  of  the  strictly  ministerial  idea  in 
the  former,  and  to  the  substitution  of  secular  agen- 
cies, the  churches  have  had  their  full  share  in  pro- 
ducing this  state  of  affairs.  Frequent  changes  of 
pastorates  prevent  our  ministers  from  becoming  es- 
pecially interested  in  any  particular  college.  In  the 
days  when  a  man  accepted  a  call  to  a  place  where 
he  expected  to  spend  a  large  part  of  his  life  in  the 
vicinity  of  an  institution  of  learning,  the  welfare  of 
the  latter  became  identified  with  his  own  welfare 
and  with  that  of  his  church.  He  was  led  to  study 
the  history  of  the  college,  to  attend  its  examinations 
and  public  exercises,  to  pray  for  it,  to  speak  of  it 
in  the  pulpit,  to  talk  about  it  in  the  parish  and  to 
urge  the  most  promising  young  men  of  the  congre- 
gation, to  seek  there  a  liberal  education. 

Now,  however,  the  average  preacher,  expecting  to 
stay  only  two  or  three  years  in  a  place,  forms  no 
strong  local  attachments,  lays  no  broad  plans  for 
work  reaching  through  a  long  period,  strikes  for 
the  quickest  results  within  narrow  limits,  and  gives 
no  care,  no  thought  to  the  college  between  which 
and  himself  a  warm  affection  cannot  be  cultivated, 
on  account  of  his  brief  residence  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. If  short  pastorates  are  an  evil  to  the  churches, 
they  are  a  great  curse  to  the  colleges.  The  devotion 
of  ministers  to  colleges,  which  was  the  universal 
rule  a  century  ago,  is  now  a  very  rare  exception' 
Long  pastorates  and  permanent  institutions  natu- 
rally affiliate.  But  a  ministry  on  wheels,  with  Jehu 


344  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

for  a  driver,  cannot  tarry  long  enough  to  form  a 
loving  relation  with  colleges,  which  patiently  abide, 
and  noiselessly  perform  their  beneficent  functions  in 
the  same  place,  generation  after  generation.  Con- 
sequently, the  preacher  forgets  to  pray  for  the  col- 
lege in  the  sanctuary,  forgets  to  talk  about  it  in  the 
parish,  and  forgets  to  recommend  it  to  the  boys. 
Then  the  church  forgets  it  in  the  prayer-meetings, 
forgets  it  at  the  family  altar  and  forgets  it  in  its 
schedule  of  benevolence.  Then  the  associated  pas- 
tors and  churches  forget  it,  in  their  plans  for  build- 
ing sanctuaries,  and  planting  home  mission  stations 
on  the  frontier,  and  establishing  foreign  mission  en- 
terprises in  heathendom.  And,  then,  at  the  fireside, 
in  the  temple  and  at  local  and  general  associations, 
your  sons  and  mine,  hearing  less  and  less  about  a 
college  education  for  the  theological  seminary,  for 
the  pulpit,  for  the  service  of  the  churches,  for  the 
salvation  of  the  lost,  for  the  crowning  of  the  Christ 
as  Lord  of  all,  devote  themselves  to  other  occupa- 
tions and  professions,  till  the  on-coming  20th  cen- 
tury cries  in  alarm,  where,  where  shall  be  found  men 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  now  that  the 
world  waits  expectant  for  the  King  of  Glory? 

This  tendency  to  separation  between  the  colleges 
and  the  churches  imperils  the  best  interests  of  both. 
The  colleges  will  suffer  more  from  it,  at  first,  but 
the  churches  will  finally  be  the  greater  losers.  Self- 
preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature,  for  an  institu- 
tion, as  well  as  for  an  individual.  A  college  which 
finds  that  churches  do  not  take  sufficient  interest  in  it, 
to  furnish  it  with  the  necessary  money  and  students, 
will  turn  to  a  worldly  constituency  for  support.  It 
will  appeal  to  local  pride  and  personal  ambition.  In 


CHURCH  AND  COLLEGE. 


345 


filling  its  coffers  and  its  classes,  men  will  be  brought 
into  its  board  of  trust  and  its  faculty,  without  very 
careful  inquiry  into  their  religious  character.  A  sec- 
ular tone  will  be  given  to  the  institution.  Scholarly 
indifference  will  take  the  place  of  religious  earnest- 
ness. The  atmosphere  of  the  corporation  will  chill 
devotion.  A  revival  spirit  will  be  stigmatized  as 
fanatical,  and  conversions  will  cease.  Such  an  insti- 
tution may  get  endowments  and  patronage,  but  it 
will  no  longer  furnish  to  the  churches  consecrated 
men  either  for  the  pew  or  for  the  pulpit. 

Better  things  are  possible,  at  least  for  the  churches 
and  the  colleges  of  the  Interior.  Let  there  be,  uni- 
versally, such  a  relation  as  that  which  Dr.  Thwing, 
of  Minneapolis,  is  fostering  between  the  churches  of 
Minnesota  and  Carleton  College;  let  there  be  such 
a  relation  as  the  departed  Dr.  Goodell  fostered  be- 
tween the  churches  of  Missouri  and  Drury  College, 
and  all  are  secure.  The  churches,  providing  endow- 
ments and  students,  will  thus  say  unto  the  college: 
"  We  hold  thee  safe."  And  the  colleges,  giving  back 
their  young  men  trained  for  Christian  service  in  pew 
and  pulpit,  will  gratefully  respond  to  the  church: 
"  We  hold  thee  safe." 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS, 

OR  THE  UNION  OF  THE  USEFUL  AND  THE  BEAUTIFUL 
IN  THE  WORLD  AND  IN  CHARACTER. 

Venus  was  a  daughter  of  the  sea.  The  graces 
formed  her  train.  Earth  and  heaven  were  her  home. 
Universal  welcome  greets  the  beautiful. 

Vulcan,  Juno's  son,  but  not  her  pride,  was  a  crip- 
ple from  his  birth.  Juno,  with  the  temper  of  Byron's 
mother,  called  her  boy  a  "lame  brat,"  and  drove 
him  from  her  presence.  He  became  a  blacksmith, 
and  set  up  his  shop  in  the  caverns  of  ^tna. 

As  he  stook  there  one  day  beside  the  forge,  in 
tripped  Venus,  gathering  her  drapery  about  her 
somewhat  daintily;  but  she  laid  her  white  hand 
fearlessly  upon  his  arm,  bare  and  brawny;  and 
the  two  were  married,  while  the  Cyclops  gave  them 
an  anvil  chorus,  for  a  wedding  march, 

The  story  contains  a  prophecy,  which  is  even  in 
process  of  fulfillment,  as  we  sweep  onward  toward 
the  millennium.  In  the  perfect  union  of  the  useful 
and  the  beautiful,  the  highest  ideal  will  find  its  reali- 
zation. 

The  most  obvious  application  of  the  principle  is 
found  among  what  are  considered  the  coarse  arts. 
Notice  the  transformation  which  it  works  in  agricul- 
ture. Put  the  plow  of  antiquity  beside  that  of  to- 
day. Study  a  moment  the  relation  of  service  and 
grace.  Mark  how  these  have  kept  pace  with  each 
other.  With  every  improvement  in  effectiveness, 
the  inventor  has  sought  to  connect  some  new  charm 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS.  347 

•of  outline,  some  fresh  excellence  of  finish,  to  gratify 
the  natural  desire  for  symmetry  of  form  and  harmony 
of  color.  This  may  not  enable  the  farmer  to  turn 
over  any  more  acres,  or  to  raise  any  more  bushels 
of  corn  from  the  same  area;  but  it  does  give  a  cer- 
tain zest  to  his  labor,  which  he  would  not  experience 
if  no  regard  had  been  paid  to  his  aesthetic  nature, 
in  the  shape  and  ornamentation  of  the  implement. 
In  the  most  common-place  toil,  respect  should  be 
shown  to  those  finer  tastes,  which  are  found,  at  least 
in  a  rudimental  state,  in  every  human  being.  But 
let  it  always  be  understood  that  in  cases  of  this  kind, 
utility  is  never  to  be  sacrificed  to  beauty.  The  laws 
of  mechanics  are  supreme.  Friction  and  loss  of 
power  are  too  high  a  price  for  the  mere  gratification 
of  fancy.  Decoration  which  detracts  from  efficiency 
quickly  becomes  an  abomination.  When  Vulcan  is 
shaping  the  plow  at  the  forge,  let  Venus  watch  in 
silence,  so  long  as  her  lord  is  fixing  the  curvature 
which  will  save  the  strength  of  the  horse  and  the 
strength  of  the  man,  and  leave  the  ground  in  the 
best  condition  for  production.  Up  to  that  stage  of 
the  process,  any  suggestion  from  Venus  is  an  iirir 
pertinence.  But  the  moment  that  point  is  reached, 
the  old  smith  will  be  tickled,  to  have  her  lean  over 
and  whisper  in  his  ear  whatever  she  chooses,  about 
those  finishing  touches  which  she  knows  will  find 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  farmer  boy,  will  awaken  in 
him  the  dormant  poetic  sense,  and  pitch  his  voice 
to  a  song,  as  he  follows  in  the  furrow,  while  the 
meadow  lark  takes  wing  and  the  May  morning  is 
glad. 

Suppose  the  next  order  to  be  for  a  wagon   for  the 
same  rustic  swain.     Vulcan  must  make  strength  and 


348  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

durability  of  material,  and  lightness  of  draft,  his 
prime  factors  in  construction;  but  his  grim  face  will 
relax  with  a  smile,  and  he  will  become  as  docile  as  a 
child,  if  Venus  will  tell  him,  at  the  right  instant,  what 
pattern  of  springs  and  what  style  of  trimmings  would 
suit  her,  the  next  time  he  comes  with  Apollo's 
horses,  to  give  her  a  drive  along  the  beach  of  Pa- 
phos.  According  to  Emerson,  "  the  beautiful  rests 
upon  the  foundation  of  the  necessary."  When, 
therefore,  the  essayist  essayed  to  "hitch  his  wagon 
to  a  star,"  must  he  not  have  guarded  against  all 
friction  in  the  running  gear,  before  he  attended  to 
the  gilding  of  the  driver's  box?  In  dealing  with  so 
many  horse-powers  as  inhere  in  a  star,  the  strength 
of  the  traces  should  be  tested  first.  The  silver-plat- 
ing of  the  harness  should  follow. 

But,  returning  from  these  mythological  and  tran- 
scendental excursions,  let  us  apply  the  doctrine  to  a 
motor  better  known.  Bring  locomotives  from  the 
round-house.  First  comes  the  switch-engine,  in  all 
its  homeliness.  It  must  hug  the  track,  To  this  end 
its  drivers  are  cut  down.  To  tighten  the  grip  upon 
the  rails,  wheels  must  be  multiplied  and  weights 
increased.  Cylinders  are  compact  and  powerful. 
Fire-box  is  hungry  and  capacious.  When  Vulcan 
turns  out  such  jobs,  Venus  never  goes  near  the  shop. 
They  are  the  ugliest  creations  of  his  ugliest  moods. 
This  case  admits  of  no  relief.  The  mission  of  the 
machine  is  simply  to  move  dead  weight,  at  a  dead- 
march  pace,  to  and  fro  within  narrow  limits,  with 
endless  monotony.  Everything  suggests  the  dis- 
malest  drudgery.  Grimy  iron  monster,  grimy  engi- 
neer, grimy  stoker  look  alike  melancholy.  Can  you 
picture  a  more  forlorn  life,  than  that  of  two  men 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS. 


349 


who  are  doomed  to  run  a  switch  engine?  Better 
Siberian  exile! 

Turn  now  to  the  freight  locomotive.  The  same 
general  principles  of  construction  prevail,  but  modi- 
fications are  visible.  The  speed  is  quickened.  The 
distances  lengthen.  The  faces  shorten.  While  the 
business  is  still  very  practical,  while  the  greatest 
amount  of  work,  with  the  strictest  economy  of 
forces,  must  remain  the  governing  consideration, 
there  appears  a  certain  poetry  of  motion,  as  the  long 
train  seeks  its  destination.  Engineer  and  fireman 
catch  somewhat  of  the  fresh  spirit  of  the  hills  and 
valleys,  the  prairies  and  forests  through  which  they 
pass.  They  take  a  certain  pride  in  the  gallant  iron 
horse.  To  encourage  the  sentiment,  some  attention 
should  be  paid  to  ornament  in  the  building  of  the 
freight  locomotive.  Should  this  call  for  additional 
outlay  and  extra  care,  there  will  be  more  than  a  re- 
turn in  the  increased  satisfaction  which  the  engineer 
and  fireman  will  feel  in  their  charge,  and  in  the 
effort  which  they  will  make  to  keep  it  constantly  in 
the  best  condition.  On  the  score  of  economy  only, 
due  regard  to  this  idea  would,  in  the  course  of  years, 
be  profitable  to  the  railroad  company.  Let  men  be 
entrusted  with  something,  which,  in  its  construction, 
shows  consideration  for  their  finer  instincts,  and  they 
will  respond  to  the  compliment,  with  increased 
fidelity  and  cheerfulness. 

The  thought  bears  further  enlargement,  when  you 
inspect  the  passenger  engine.  The  business  idea 
still  controls,  but,  with  the  doubled  and  trebled  speed, 
enters  also  the  new  element  of  gladness.  The  pas- 
senger engine  should  be  among  switch  engines  as 
Saul  among  his  brethren.  It  should  rise  tall,  well- 


350  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

proportioned,  athletic,  prepared  as  a  strong  man  to 
run  a  race.  Vulcan  wants  all  the  inspiration  of  Venus, 
as  he  brings  this  his  master-piece  to  perfection.  Let 
it  not  leave  his  presence,  until  she  pronounces  it  a 
thing  of  beauty.  Then  study  the  face  of  the  man 
whose  hand  controls  the  throttle  valve.  How  it 
lights  up  with  affection,  as  he  watches  the  graceful 
swing  around  a  curve,  the  triumphant  sweep  toward 
a  mountain's  brow,  and  the  arrowy  flight  down 
through  the  valley,  while  the  burnished  metal  flashes 
in  the  sun  like  silver  and  gold!  He  does  not  talk 
about  IT,  but  about  HER.  His  hard  tones  grow  mel- 
low, as  if  he  were  speaking  of  sweetheart  or  wife. 
While  he  thaws  out,  little  by  little,  as  you  gain  his 
confidence,  and  dwells  fondly  upon  the  various  vir- 
tues of  his  darling,  the  stoker  breaks  in  with  HIS 
tribute  to  what  SHE  can  do,  and  you  see  that  her 
fiery  heart  is  the  altar  at  which  both  men  worship. 
It  is  well.  It  is  well  for  them.  It  dignifies  their 
anxious,  perilous  life.  They  recognize  the  fitness  of 
means  to  ends.  They  associate  their  agency  with 
the  admiration  bestowed  upon  their  favorite. 

Their  office  is  magnified.  Their  calling  is  en- 
nobled. It  is  well  for  their  employers.  Property  is 
safer.  Those  costly  equipments,  those  polished  or- 
naments, all  that  finished  elegance  confided  to  their 
keeping,  take  them  into  a  sort  of  partnership,  and 
make  them  cautious  of  needless  waste  and  break- 
age. It  is  well  for  the  traveling  public.  Such  a 
spirit  keeps  the  eye  of  the  watcher  intent  upon  the 
darkness,  quickens  the  instinct  of  danger  ahead, 
nerves  the  arm,  steadies  the  brain,  prevents  catas- 
trophe. 

Leaving,  now,  the  engine  in  the  care  of  her  guard- 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS.  351 

ians,  lusty  and  trusty,  let  us  carry  our  theme  back  to 
the  rear  of  the  train,  and  continue  our  investigation 
there.  Did  you  ever  watch  the  building  of  a  palace 
car?  If  not,  spend  your  next  half  day  of  leisure  at 
Pullman.  Go  alone.  In  those  long  lines  of  shops 
the  whole  process  is  displayed.  It  is  a  materialized 
panorama  in  wood  and  metal.  Begin  with  the  foun- 
dation of  solid  oak  and  tempered  steel,  and  study 
the  stages  of  evolution,  one  by  one,  until  the  ideal  is 
realized,  and  the  palace  stands  ready  for  dedication. 
No  other  structure  puts  into  visible,  tangible  form, 
so  happy  a  combination  of  strength,  grace  and  aes- 
thetic adaptation.  This  cannot  be  understood  until 
you  first  make  the  analysis,  then  the  synthesis,  until 
you  examine,  one  by  one,  the  hundreds  and  hundreds 
of  pieces  of  all  sizes  and  shapes,  and  see  them  fitted 
ed  to  one  another  with  amazing  rapidity,  precision 
and  perfection. 

You  may  witness,  in  a  rolling  mill,  some  single 
process  which  will  excite  more  astonishment  than 
any  single  process  which  falls  under  the  eye  at 
Pullman,  but  in  the  case  of  the  palace  car  the 
admiration  is  cumulative.  Each  bit  of  wood  or 
metal  adds  something  which  you  would  not  have 
thought  of,  of  which  you  see  the  fitness,  how- 
ever, as  soon  as  it  is  employed.  As  part  is  joined 
to  part,  amazement  grows  with  a  mingled  sense 
of  gladness  and  oppression,  until,  like  the  queen 
of  Sheba,  in  the  presence  of  the  wonders  of  Solo- 
mon, you  find  no  more  spirit  in  you.  The  effect 
is  intensified  from  the  fact  that  you  are  not 
viewing  the  structure  as  you  would  examine  a  puz- 
zle, or  a  piece  of  mechanism  fabricated  merely  to 
show  what  marvels  may  be  effected  by  the  appli- 


352  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

cation  of  brain  and  muscle  to  material  substances. 
The  genius  of  the  place  is  constantly  filling  your 
mind  with  suggestions  of  human  security,  profit, 
comfort,  delight.  Aladdin's  palace  was  tenanted  by 
creatures  of  the  imagination;  but  Pullman's  palace 
opens  to  those  who  have  body,  soul  and  spirit. 
Aladdin's  palace  was  stationary;  Pullman's  palace, 
with  no  local  fetters,  now  halts  at  the  Grand  Central 
of  New  York;  and  next  week  waits  at  San  Fran- 
cisco's Golden  Gate.  It  has  transported  across  a 
continent,  without  anxiety,  the  eager  financier;  with- 
out pain,  the  invalid  in  quest  of  health;  without 
weariness,  the  aged;  with  rejoicing,  the  bridegroom 
and  bride.  The  congruity  is  faultless.  The  har- 
mony is  perfect.  Vulcan  and  Venus  once  more  kiss 
each  other. 

By  way  of  reproach,  this  age  is  often  called  an 
age  of  iron,  but  the  reproach  is  unwise.  The  cen- 
sure would  be  just,  if  quantity  debased  quality;  but, 
in  point  of  fact,  the  latter  is  constantly  gaining  upon 
the  former.  Invention  must  make  every-day  uses 
her  first  study;  but  she  does  not  consent  to  place 
her  work  on  exhibition,  until  she  has  rendered  it  fit 
for  consecration  to  the  graces.  The  greatest  triumph 
of  construction  on  this  continent  is  the  Brooklyn 
bridge.  When  you  you  consider  the  prodigious 
weight  of  coarse  materials,  you  anticipate  heavy  ef- 
fects. But  study  the  structure  from  the  upper  and 
lower  ferry  boats,  steam  up  under  it  by  moonlight, 
ride  over  it  and  walk  over  it  at  noon-tide,  give  it  the 
most  critical  examination  in  every  way,  and  the  final 
impression  will  be  aesthetic,  rather  than  materialistic. 
If  one  has  imbibed  the  notion  that,  in  the  ceaseless 
rattle  of  wheels  and  cogs  and  cranks,  humanity  is 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS. 


353 


losing  all  finer  perceptions,  let  him  subscribe  for  a 
year  to  the  Scientific  American,  and  make  its  pic- 
tures his  object  lessons,  week  after  week.  It  would 
be  well  for  us  all,  to  read  less  machine  poetry,  and 
more  poetry  in  machines.  There  is  a  poet's  cor- 
ner in  the  Patent  Office.  Such  is  the  artistic  beauty 
of  many  inventions,  that  machine  oil  ceases  to 
offend  even  the  sensitive  noses  of  the  muses. 

But  I  am  dwelling  too  long  upon  plows,  and  wag- 
ons, and  engines,  and  cars,  and  bridges.  Pass,  then, 
from  the  department  of  mechanics  to  that  of  archi- 
tecture, which  evidently  comes  within  the  scope  of 
the  theme.  This  is  decided  by  the  criterion,  that 
utility  is  still  primary  and  beauty  secondary.  The 
history  of  architecture  has  been  one  long  struggle 
to  get  these  two  elements  properly  adjusted.  This 
is  most  strikingly  illustrated  in  sacred  architecture. 
Religion  has  always  used  her  temples  to  influence 
her  votaries,  through  the  eye  and  through  the  ear. 
In  the  earlier  stages  of  civilization,  the  sense  of 
sight  predominated.  Scenic  effects  were  sought. 
This  idea  ruled  the  ritual.  It  made  music  tributary  to 
pageantry.  It  planned,  in  rearing  churches,  to  move 
the  soul  through  vision.  This  is  manifest  in  the 
vividness  of  the  Gothic  style,  and  in  the  sense  of 
vastness  produced  by  the  Italian  style.  The  same 
impression  was  deepened  by  the  frescoings  and 
paintings  of  the  interior.  Imposing  form  and  cap- 
tivating color  were  most  happily  combined,  to  sub- 
ject the  heart  to  the  imagination.  Under  modern 
civilization,  the  finer  sense  of  hearing  has  been  con- 
tending with  the  coarser  sense  of  sight  for  the  pri- 
macy. Religion  seeks  to  govern,  less  by  the  eye, 
more  by  the  ear.  This  new  principle  of  utility  intro- 


354  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

duces  a  new  principle  of  beauty.  Religion  wants 
an  auditorium. 

Whereas  she  once  laid  the  stress  upon  the  laws  of 
optics  she  now  lays  the  stress  upon  the  laws  of 
acoustics.  But  the  former  governed  for  so  many 
centuries  in  the  building  of  God's  temples,  that  they 
struggle  to  retain  the  supremacy.  The  architect  still 
consults  the  eye,  rather  than  the  ear.  The  secondary 
holds  the  place  of  the  primary,  the  primary  the  place 
of  the  secondary.  Improvements  have  been  made 
within  a  generation,  but  religion  will  suffer  until  this 
is  the  universal  law  of  the  temple — first,  a  perfect 
auditorium;  then,  if  possible,  a  perfect  picture. 

Next  apply  the  principle  to  the  old  house  at  home, 
and  to  the  new  house  at  home.  The  two  should  not 
be  alike.  Changed  conditions  greatly  modify  rules 
of  construction.  In  building  the  former,  stability, 
shelter  and  protection  were  the  governing  ideas.  A 
fresh  clearing  in  the  wilderness  is  the  natural  setting 
for  a  log  house,  a  structure  within  which  there  is 
an  assurance  of  security,  when  wolves  howl  and 
savages  prowl.  The  second  generation  does  not 
shut  itself  up  so  closely.  The  rafters  are  lengthened, 
the  floors  are  extended,  and  thus  is  made  the  stoop, 
where  the  woman  turns  the  spinning  wheel  in  the 
shade,  and  the  man  smokes  his  pipe  when  the  day's 
work  is  done.  It  is  all  very  homely;  but,  remember 
that  homely  is  a  contraction  of  home-like.  The  pic- 
turesque now  begins  to  steal  into  the  dwelling.  There 
is  a  melodeon  in  the  front  room,  and  a  girl  who  plays 
and  sings  to  the  bewilderment  of  an  enamored  youth, 
who  is  in  a  "strait  betwixt  two," — his  bashfulness 
about  leaving  the  farther  side  of  the  fire-place,  and 
his  burning  desire  for  a  seat  close  to  the  melodeon. 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS.  355 

It  all  accords  with  the  eternal  fitness  of  things. 
Every  woman  envies  the  girl.  Every  man  wishes 
that  he  were  the  youth,  in  transit  from  the  chimney 
corner. 

And  so  we  come  to  these  later  days,  with  their 
multiplied  physical  comforts  and  aesthetic  gratifica- 
tions. There  is  danger  that  in  building  the  new 
house  at  home,  a  straining  after  artistic  effect  will 
encroach  upon  those  plain  conveniences  so  essential 
to  the  happiness  of  the  family.  After  we  have  de- 
cided how  much  money  we  can  put  into  a  dwelling, 
instead  of  first  carefully  maturing  a  plan  which  will 
contribute  most  to  the  well-being  of  the  household, 
and  making  mere  ornamentation  a  subordinate  con- 
sideration, we  are  prone  to  turn  the  matter  over  to 
the  architect,  bidding  him  give  us  the  most  pictur- 
esque abode  possible  for  the  amount  specified.  The 
architect  is  always  tempted  to  take  his  stand-point 
from  the  street,  rather  than  from  the  fireside.  The 
hearth-stone,  however,  should  be  the  foundation  for 
the  ruling  idea  in  building.  The  special  wants  of 
every  member  of  the  domestic  circle  should  be 
heeded,  before  attention  should  be  paid  to  the  de- 
light of  the  passers  by.  Enough  will  be  done  for 
them,  incidentally,  in  that  provision  which  must  be 
made  for  such  aesthetic  training  as  is  necessary  for 
the  highest  well-being  of  those  who  are  to  occupy 
the  dwelling.  The  impression  made  by  many  of  our 
pretentious  modern  houses  is,  that  more  study  has 
been  given  to  produce  external  effects  than  to  secure 
such  internal  arrangements  as  shall  cause  "home, 
sweet  home "  to  be  the  spontaneous  song  of  the 
whole  household.  The  A'merican  people  should  be- 
ware, lest,  in  architecture,  they  let  the  startling  and 


356  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  fanciful  encroach  upon  the  fundamentally  useful, 
and  mar  the  truly  beautiful. 

There  is  a  rhetorician's  dictum  which  will  serve  as 
a  golden  link  to  connect  the  preceding  and  the  re- 
maining portions  of  this  discussion.  It  reads:  "DEC- 
ORATE CONSTRUCTION;  DO  NOT  CONSTRUCT  DECORA- 
TION." 

Here  the  transition  is  easy  from  material  to  social, 
spiritual  and  educational  forms.  The  plea  has  been 
thus  far  for  the  natural  and  harmonious  union  of 
Vulcan  and  Venus,  strength  and  beauty,  in  those 
tangible  creations  which  mark  the  progress  of  civil- 
ization. This  is,  also,  the  open  secret  of  the  best  so- 
ciety, the  morality  of  the  Pilgrim  wedded  to  the 
manners  of  the  Cavalier, — Plymouth  Rock  in  the 
blushing  embrace  of  the  Virginia  Creeper!  The  two 
essential  elements  are  present.  What  they  need  is 
happy  fusion.  The  ideal  slowly  approaches  realiza- 
tion, notwithstanding  the  lamentations  of  the  pessi- 
mist. Clannishness  and  exclusiveness  are  disappear- 
ing with  the  dying  century.  Society  improves  by 
growing  composite.  That  which  is  best  in  England 
came  from  the  blending  of  the  Saxon  and  the  Nor- 
man. In  the  process,  each  retained  its  peculiar  ex- 
cellencies and  lost  only  its  peculiar  defects.  Maine 
and  Mississippi,  acting  rightly  upon  each  other, 
would  give  a  resultant  nobler  than  either  of  the  orig- 
inal forces.  Catholicity  of  vision  is  the  first  principle 
of  social  science.  Unity  through  diversity  is  the  great 
law  of  creation. 

But  you  notice  that  the  Author  of  the  Universe 
sanctions  the  principle  which  is  advocated  through- 
out this  address.  He  never  constructs  decoration, 
but  always  decorates  construction.  He  first  lays  out 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS. 


357 


mountains,  valleys  and  water-courses  for  the  every 
day  wants  of  mankind,  and  then  bids  nature  array 
herself  in  loveliness.  This  ought  to  be  our  model  in 
building  the  social  fabric.  Let  industry,  economy, 
integrity  and  virtue  be  inculcated  first  and  foremost, 
as  the  only  abiding  foundations,  then  welcome  all 
those  amenities  and  accomplishments  which  give 
sweetness  and  inspiration  to  life.  Listen  to  Carlyle, 
as  he  ridicules  sham  and  glorifies  work;  but  give 
heed  also  to  Ruskin,  as  he  pleads  for  symmetry  and 
grace.  Elijah  and  Elisha  both  have  their  mission  to 
men.  The  truth  ruggedly  declared  by  the  one  to- 
day, is  more  persuasive  when  mildly  uttered  by  the 
other  to-morrow.  Every  generation  is,  in  its  condi- 
tions, more  fortunate  than  its  predecessor.  It  has 
more  leisure,  and  greater  facilities  for  perfecting  its 
inheritance.  Two  classes  of  reformers  incessantly 
struggle  for  leadership.  One  is  composed  of  those 
who  exalt  rigor,  austerity  and  repulsiveness,  as  proofs 
of  excellence.  In  their  philosophy,  an  angle  is  better 
than  a  curve,  and  the  acutest  angle  is  the  best  angle, 
because  it  makes  the  sharpest  wedge,  the  one  which 
can  be  driven  in  easiest  and  farthest.  A  cube  is  su- 
perior to  a  sphere,  on  account  of  its  cutting  edges. 
John's  harsh  voice  in  the  wilderness  has  greater  fas- 
cination than  Christ's  gentle  voice  in  the  temple. 

But  read  God's  lesson  in  nature.  Give  vision  the 
widest  sweep.  Your  limits  are  the  horizon  and  the 
firmament.  The  one  is  circular  and  the  other  is  semi- 
spherical.  By  these  boundaries,  the  Creator  ex- 
presses his  aversion  to  the  angular  and  his  love  for 
the  curvilinear.  On  the  surface  of  the  planet,  sharp 
edges  are  the  result  of  convulsion.  Chemical  agency 
is  straitway  summoned  to  round  those  edges  into 


358  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

curves.  Throughout  the  inorganic  realm  there  is  a 
tendency  to  destroy  cutting  power.  In  volcanic 
action,  the  fluidity  of  the  lava  tones  down  the  preci- 
pice and  fills  the  chasm.  Afterwards,  air  and  light 
and  frost  and  heat  and  water  assume  and  carry  on  this 
ministry.  In  the  case  of  any  almost  extinct  burning 
mountain,  like  Hood  or  Shasta,  you  will  notice  how 
eager  nature  is  to  throw  a  robe  of  vegetation  over 
the  rents  and  breaks  of  the  base,  and  to  hide  the 
jagged  cliffs  under  a  graceful  mantle  of  snow.  Ex- 
pose any  material  shape  to  the  elements,  and  the 
latter  will  forthwith  attack  its  edges  and  try  to  take 
out  the  "cut." 

Again,  all  the  bays  and  inlets  of  ocean  are  sinuous, 
not  angular.  Notice  the  sand  dunes.  They  follow 
the  same  pattern.  And,  if  you  retreat  far  inland,  you 
will  find  that  the  WAVE  STYLE  is  still  the  favorite,  and 
is  adopted  or  imitated  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  the 
situation. 

Once  more,  abandoning  land  and  water,  you  dis- 
cover a  similar  preference  in  the  aerial  region. 
Lightning  does  zig-zag,  but  light  UNDULATES.  Light- 
ning is  exceptional;  light  is  universal.  Sound  also 
WAVES.  The  discharge  of  a  cannon  is  explosive. 
You  may  at  first  think  of  the  acoustic  effect  as  sim- 
ilar to  that  produced  by  the  flying  fragments  of  a 
shell;  but,  as  you  listen  to  the  dying  reverberations, 
you  are  convinced  that  the  movement  is  undulatory. 

Pass  next  to  organic  forms.  The  grass  at  your  feet 
springs  up  in  blades,  and  you  say  that  this  destroys 
the  generalization;  here  is  the  point,  here  is  the  edge 
and  here  is-  the  angle.  But  be  patient.  Look  toward 
the  root  of  that  blade  of  grass.  The  stem  is  assum- 
ing the  circular  form,  and  whether  it  be  timothy,  or 


VULCAN  AMD  VENUS.  359 

blue-grass,  or  clover,  the  full-grown  stalk  will  be 
tubular  and  will  wear  a  rounded  crown.  Somehow 
the  tree  never  exhibits  a  square  trunk.  When  it 
throws  off  branches,  they  also  are  round,  the  angle 
of  departure  is  curved,  and  the  limbs  and  leaves  all 
contribute  to  break  rigid  effects.  Now,  if  you  will 
examine  the  whole  vegetable  kingdom,  you  will  find 
this  constant  protest  against  angularity.  Landscape 
gardening,  as  you  would  expect,  conforms  itself  to 
the  principle  of  the  curve.  Landscape  painting  like- 
wise acknowledges  the  reign  of  the  same  law.  Other- 
wise, as  imitative  arts,  they  would  commit  suicide. 
Such  considerations  justify  the  conclusion  that 
nature  finds  in  the  curvilinear  her  prime  secret  of 
beauty. 

But  the  doctrine  may  be  perverted  in  human  na- 
ture. For  instance,  many  consider  the  spinal  col- 
umn a  most  uncomfortable  formation.  They  would 
substitute  gristle  for  bone,  to  insure  flexibility.  Mus- 
cle and  sinew  must  simmer  down  into  jelly.  Pulp  is 
the  ideal  substance.  Such  people  dote  upon  the  sen- 
suous, the  artificial,  the  meretricious.  Their  choic- 
est product  is  of  the  Oscar  and  sunflower  variety. 
Join  neither  school,  but  take  a  suggestion  from  both. 
Each  is  a  protest  against  the  other.  As  is  usual  be- 
tween two  extremes,  society  will  find  its  golden 
mean  in  the  union  of  the  rugged  and  the  gracious. 

Such,  likewise,  is  the  law  of  the  spiritual  world. 
Moral  strength  and  moral  beauty  happily  combined 
bring  character  to  perfection.  You  mark  a  tendency 
to  divorce  the  two  in  ethical  conceptions.  The  old 
theology  and  the  new  furnish  a  background  for 
these  notions.  The  first  will  hear  nothing  but  the 
thunders  of  Sinai.  The  second  will  see  nothing  but 


360  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

the  sunshine  of  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes.  Man's 
idea  of  God  forms  his  ideal  for  himself.  As  a  con- 
sequence, two  hostile  factions  seek  disciples.  In 
church  history,  Luther  best  represents  the  one, 
Erasmus  the  other.  Miniature  likenesses  every- 
where abound.  Excessive  admiration  of  the  heroic 
virtues  hallows  a  dogmatism  and  intolerance,  which 
peculiarities  of  temperament,  time  and  circumstance 
once  connected  with  some  individual,  or  class  of  in- 
dividuals. Because  Plato  happened  to  be  round- 
shouldered,  not  a  few  of  his  admirers  become  like 
him  as  high  as  the  base  of  the  neck,  but  no  higher. 
As  in  philosophy,  so  in  religion,  excrescences  take 
the  place  of  excellencies,  because  they  are  easier 
of  cultivation.  In  Switzerland,  even  the  goitre 
in  all  its  unsightliness  is  fashionable.  What  wonder, 
then,  that  the  church,  with  her  vigorous  Genevan 
constitution,-  should  develop  some  strange  beauty 
spots! 

The  Reformers,  the  Covenanters  and  the  Puritans 
were  the  great  benefactors  of  the  race.  Their  religious 
earnestness,  inflexibility  and  heroism  deserve  the  ad- 
miration of  mankind.  Still,  certain  surface  traits, 
pardonable  centuries  ago,  are  not  worthy  of  imita- 
tion by  this  generation.  And  yet  those  very  traits 
are  the  ones  which  many  are  the  most  tempted  to 
copy  as  moral  perfections.  The  worship  of  rugged- 
ness  of  character  in  the  sixteenth  century,  may  thus 
result  in  jaggedness  of  character  in  the  nine- 
teenth century.  But  there  is  the  other  extreme. 
Many  so  magnify  the  burning  of  a  Servetus,  and  the 
fanatical  folly  of  the  Salem  tragedies,  that  they  lose 
sight  of  the  grandeur  of  the  Reformation  in  the  Old 
World,  and  the  heroic  conquest  of  the  New  World, 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS. 

by  the  same  over-mastering  religious  enthusiasm. 
Such  blot  out  the  text:  "God  is  a  consuming  fire," 
and  read  only  that  other  verse  :  "  God  is  love." 
This  moral  estimate  of  the  Creator  is  transferred  to 
the  creature,  and  those  traits  which  harmonize  with 
the  estimate  are  unduly  exalted.  The  product  is 
the  religious  sentimentalist,  who,  finding  in  his  vo- 
cabulary no  such  words  as  justice,  judgment  and 
penalty,  grows  self-indulgent,  infirm  in  purpose,  im- 
potent in  action.  But  the  two  elements  of  robust- 
ness and  winsomeness,  each  in  itself  insufficient, 
when  rightly  combined,  produce  that  rarest  of 
earthly  sights,  a  character  which  is  commanding  and 
attractive,  an  honor  to  men,  an  admiration  to  angels, 
a  delight  to  Jehovah. 

The  educational  application  of  the  doctrine  is  of 
the  highest  importance,  upon  the  present  occasion. 
Not  a  few  advocate  only  the  baldly  practical  in  our 
courses  of  study.  Let  the  Popular  Science  Monthly 
recast  the  curricula,  and  nothing  would  be  left  to 
develop  and  to  gratify  the  strictly  literary  sense. 
Give  radical  Hellenists  the  same  liberty,  and  they 
would  retaliate,  by  crowding  out  the  bread-and- 
butter  branches,  with  digammas  and  iota  subscripts. 
It  is  an  open  question,  which  party  displays  the 
narrower  narrowness.  We  shall  have  no  truly  liber- 
al education,  until  this  antagonism  is  pacified  by 
compromise.  Facts  and  formulae  are  essential;  so, 
likewise  are  logic  and  language,  in.  every  wise 
scheme  of  instruction.  Room  must  be  made  for  all. 
It  is  not  well  to  follow  blindly  either  the  apostles  of 
the  Old  education,  or  the  apostles  of  the  New  Edu- 
cation. The  former  are  too  conservative,  the  latter 
too  destructive.  It  is  a  sign  of  senility,  when  one 


362  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

sings  only  of  the  good  old  ways.  It  is  a  sign  of  ju- 
venility, when  one  can  pipe  of  nothing  but  the  good 
new  ways.  There  is  an  eclectic  and  creative  process 
going  on,  which  will  give  us,  first,  a  better  way  and, 
finally,  the  best  way. 

Whether  it  be  a  mere  fancy,  or  not,  physiologi- 
cally, it  is  a  plain  fact  psychologically,  that  every 
brain  of  man  or  woman  has  both  a  masculine  and  a 
feminine  lobe.  Both  lobes  in  both  sexes  need  prop- 
er food  and  exercise.  The  general  theory  has  been, 
that  the  great  effort  should  center  in  making  the  mas- 
culine lobe  more  masculine  for  men,  and  the  femi- 
nine lobe  more  feminine  for  woman.  But,  accord- 
ing to  the  induction  of  this  address,  the  mental 
training  of  the  future  should  pay  more  atten- 
tion to  the  feminine  lobe  for  man  and  to  the 
masculine  lobe  for  woman.  It  is  high  time  for 
the  world  to  recover  from  the  chronic  scare  about 
feminine  men  and  masculine  women.  This  has  led 
us  to  under-estimate  belles-lettres  studies  in  the 
training  of  our  boys,  and  to  ever-estimate  the  lighter 
accomplishments  in  the  training  of  our  girls.  The 
New  Education  for  woman  is  moving  in  the  right 
direction  more  rapidly  than  the  New  Education  for 
man.  Hazlitt  says  that  Raphael  cared  for  nothing 
but  the  human  form,  and  that  whenever  you  look 
at  the  hands  of  the  women  that  he  painted,  you 
want  to  TOUCH  them,  In  studying  the  flesh  color  of 
a  Titian,  the  LIPS  are  attracted. 

The  Raphaelite  in  form  and  the  Titianic  in  color 
are  combining  in  the  education  of  the  sex.  Long- 
fellow's prophecy  is  coming  true: 

"A  woman  with  a  LAMP  shall  stand, 
In  the  great  history  of  the  land, 
A  noble  type  of  good. " 


VULCAN  AND  VENUS.  363 

Her  education  may  assume  the  largest  propor- 
tions, with  no  loss  of  beauty.  It  is,  however,  neces- 
sary that  angularity  be  avoided.  This  culture  should 
be  well  rounded  and  its  complexion  fair. 

The  change  in  public  sentiment  on  the  question 
has  been  so  noiseless,  that  we  fail  to  realize  how- 
mighty  has  been  the  revolution,throughout  the  Anglo 
Saxon  race.  Contrast  the  doctrine  of  the  eighteenth 
century  with  the  doctrine  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Knight,  in  his  History  of  England,  quotes  from 
Dean  Swift  as  follows:  "There  is  a  subject  of  con- 
troversy which  I  have  frequently  met  with  in  mixed 
and  select  companies  of  both  sexes, — and  some- 
times only  of  men, — whether  it  be  prudent  to 
choose  a  wife  who  has  good  natural  sense,  some 
taste  of  wit  and  humor,  able  to  read  and  relish  his- 
tory, books  of  travel,  moral  or  entertaining  dis- 
courses, and  be  a  tolerable  judge  of  the  beauties  of 
poetry.  This  question  is  usually  determined  in  the 
negative  by  women  themselves,  and  almost  univer- 
sally by  men." 

There  is  no  mistaking  that  in  those  days  Burke's 
criterion  of  SMALLNESS  was  the  sole  test  of  woman's 
intellectual  beauty.  But,  in  accordance  with  the 
doctrine  maintained  this  evening,  without  taking 
time  to  consider  the  light  belles-lettres  elements 
mentioned  by  Swift,  as  the  utmost  conceivable 
bounds  of  woman's  mental  attainments,  I  ask  you 
to  open  the  catalogue  of  Yale  University,  and  to 
point  out  a  single  study  in  the  academic  course 
which  would  produce  angularity,  a  single  study  in 
the  academic  course  which  would  not  round  out 
woman's  intellectual  form  with  lines  of  beauty. 

While,    however,   this    position   is  resolutely    de- 


364  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

fended,  it  is  as  readily  conceded  that  intellectual 
color  is  more  indispensable  in  woman  than  in  man, 
and  that,  while  equal  time  and  opportunity  for  liberal 
culture  should  be  given  to  both  sexes,  there  should  be 
certain  substitutions  in  favor  of  female  accomplish- 
ments. In  other  words,  the  relatively  greater  im- 
portance of  color  ought  so  far  to  modify  form. 
Consequently,  the  curriculum  of  a  Wellesley  would 
be  preferable  to  the  curriculum  of  a  Yale.  It  is  my 
belief  that,  when  the  proper  additions  and  subtrac- 
tions have  been  made  for  each  curriculum,  when  the 
sundry  options  have  been  adjusted  between  mathe- 
matics and  science  on  the  one  side,  and  music  and 
art  on  the  other,  the  two  curricula  will  be  found  in 
substantial  accord,  and  will  lead  to  the  same  degree 
for  both  sexes.  The  evolution  of  this  idea  does  not 
necessarily  involve  the  question  of  co-education. 
New  England  prefers  to  supply  a  Williams  College 
for  her  young  men,  and  a  Smith  College  for  her 
young  women.  The  Interior  favors  the  same  insti- 
tution for  both.  But  each  section  is  equally  in 
earnest,  THAT  SEX  SHALL  NO  LONGER  LIMIT  LIBERTY 

IN  LEARNING. 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.* 

This  study  may  be  made  from  the  stand-point  of 
speculative  philosophy,  or  from  the  stand-point  ot 
moral  philosophy.  Each  method  has  its  peculiar 
advantages  and  disadvantages.  The  former  is  more 
satisfactory  to  a  limited  number.  It  promises  light 
without  heat — the  form  of  illumination  especially 
fascinating  to  a  contemplative  spirit.  But  the  ma- 
jority of  even  well-educated  men  and  women,  after 
sustaining  themselves  for  a  few  moments  in  a  state 
of  semi-apprehensive  eagerness,  grow  weary  of  ab- 
stract discussion.  The  other  style  of  treatment  de- 
scends more  easily  from  generals  to  particulars,  and 
returns  so  often  to  the  concrete  that  the  strain  of  at- 
tention is  relaxed,  and.  the  listener,  instead  of  being 
constantly  tantalized  by  some  vanishing  idea,  lays 
hold  upon  the  thought  with  gratified  self-love.  The 
few,  however,  who  have  had  special  training  in  dia- 
lectics, will  always  look  down  upon  this  method  as  a 
virtual  admission  of  a  lack  of  the  highest  intellectual 
power.  Nevertheless,  let  practical  ethics,  rather 
than  abstruse  speculation,  guide  the  writing  of  this 
paper. 

Definition  should  be  made  at  the  outset,  to  prevent 
confusion.  The  meaning  of  _four  words  ought  to  be 
rendered  clear  to  mental  vision.  These  words  are 
sentiment,  sentimentalism,  reality  and  realism.  Senti- 
ment proper  is  always  excellent.  Sentimentalism  is 
the  perversion  of  sentiment.  Reality  is  sometimes 


*An  address  before  the  "American  Akademe." 


366  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

excellent  and  sometimes  the  opposite.  When  reality 
is  excellent,  realism  is  the  exaltation  of  repulsive- 
ness.  Of  course  realism  in  this  essay  has  nothing  of 
the  old  scholastic  sense,  which  made  it  a  synonym 
for  idealism,  and  opposed  it  to  nominalism  and  con- 
ceptualism.  We  are  now  confining  ourselves  to  the 
term  as  it  is  popularly  used  in  art  and  literature. 
Sentiment  affiliates  with  reality  and  realism,  when 
they  are  good.  Sentimentalism  affiliates  with  reality 
and  realism,  when  they  are  bad.  Sentiment  is  alike 
at  home  in  the  realm  of  fancy  and  the  realm  of  fact. 
Sentiment  is  the  happy  product  of  imagination  tem- 
pered by  emotion. 

The  best  examples  are  found  in  poetry.  Listen  to 
a  dozen  lines  read  on  the  celebration  of  Longfellow's 
birthday: 

"A  soft-breasted  bird  from  the  sea 

Fell  in  love  with  the  light-house  flame, 

And  it  wheeled  round  the  tower  on  its  airiest  wing. 

And  floated  and  cried  like  a  love-lorn  thing: 

It  brooded  all  day,  and  fluttered  all  night, 

But  could  win  no  look  from  the  steadfast  light, 

For  the  flame  hid  its  heart  afar — 

Afar  with  the  ships  at  sea. 

It  was  thinking  of  children  and  waiting  wives, 

And  darkness  and  danger  to  sailors'  lives. 

But  the  bird  had  its  tender  bosom  pressed 

On  the  glass,  where  at  last  it  dashed  its  breast. 

The  light  only  flickered,  the  brighter  to  glow, 

BUT  THE  BIRD  LAY  DEAD  ON  THE  ROCKS  BELOW— 

This  is  a  fine  illustration  of  sentiment  in  the  realm 
of  fancy.  No  one  will  question  its  immaculate 
purity. 

Two  phases  of  sentiment  in  the  realm  of  fact  are 
well  brought  out  in  The  Cotters  Saturday  Night.  For 
each  I  quote  a  specimen  stanza: 


SENTIMENTAL1SM  AND  REALISM.  367 

"Wi1  kindly  welcome  Jenny  brings  him  ben; 

A  strappin'  youth;  he  taks  the  mother's  eye: 
Blithe  Jenny  sees  the  visit's  no  ill  ta'en; 

The  father  cracks  of  horses,  pleughs  and  kye; 
The  youngster's  artless  heart  o'erflows  wi'  joy, 

But  blate  and  lathefu',  scarce  can  weel  behave. 
The  mother,  wi'  a  woman's  wiles,  can  spy 

What  makes  the  youth  sae  bashfu'  and  sae  grave: 
Weel  pleased  to  think  her  bairn's  respected  like  the  lave." 

"Then  kneeling  down  to  heaven's  eternal  King, 

The  saint,  the  father  and  the  husband  prays, 
('Hope  springs  exultant  on  triumphant  wing,') 

That  thus  they  all  shall  meet  in  future  days, 
There  ever  bask  in  uncreated  rays, 

No  more  to  sigh  or  shed  the  bitter  tear; 
Together  hymning  their  Creator's  praise, 

In  such  society,  yet  still  more  dear; 
While  circling  time  moves  round  in  an  eternal  sphere. 

These  two  stanzas,  besides  exhibiting  domestic 
and  religious  sentiment,  so  combine  sentiment  with 
reality,  that  they  give  you  an  admirable  embodi- 
ment of  praiseworthy  realism. 

Now,  it  is  the  mission  of  sentiment  to  make 
thought  and  experience  glow  with  warmth  and 
brightness  and  beauty.  If  we  will  keep  this  idea 
steadily  before  us,  we  shall  never  be  disturbed  by 
the  sneering  remark  which  is  often  heard:  "Nothing 
but  sentiment,  nothing  but  sentiment." 

But  when  sentiment  ceases  to  be  a  means  towards 
a  higher  end,  when  it  becomes  an  end  in  itself,  when 
it  is  cultivated  for  its  own  sake,  it  degenerates  into 
sentimentalism,  and  the  one  who  indulges  in  it  is 
properly  stigmatized  as  a  sentimentalist.  There  are 
various  grades,  but  the  lowest  of  these  is  the  one 
where  artificial  sensibilities  are  made  the  screen  for 
shameful  immoralities. 


368  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Among  the  poets  who  confine  sentiment  to  its  le- 
gitimate office  should  be  classed  Keats,  Wordsworth, 
Tennyson  and  Longfellow.  Tupper  is  a  sentiment- 
alist, but  criticism  dismisses  him  with  no  severer  ver- 
dict than,  "affected  and  harmless."  The  sentiment- 
alism  of  Moore,  Shelley  and  Byron,  is  seductive  and 
vicious.  This  malady  expresses  itself  more  naturally 
in  prose  than  in  verse,  and  the  typical  sentimentalists 
are  found  among  prose-writers.  They  are  not  con- 
fined to  any  nationality. 

Germany,  England  and  France  have  furnished  the 
largest  number,  and  France  may  be  considered  the 
most  natural  home  of  sentimentalism.  With  it  her  lit- 
erature is  thoroughly  saturated.  It  vitiates  much  that 
would  be  admirable  in  such  men  as  Lamartine,  Mich- 
elet,  and  Victor  Hugo.  They  become  the  prey  of  an 
egotism  which  sets  them  to  attitudinizing  before  the 
world.  They  attach  an  exaggerated  importance  to 
their  own  sayings  and  doings.  They  crowd  their 
opinions  and  fancied  services  upon  the  notice  of  the 
public;  and,  then,  if  the  public  will  not  take  them  at 
their  own  estimate,  they  are  overwhelmed  with  cha- 
grin, and  weary  mankind  with  their  reproaches.  Fine 
sentiments  take  the  place  of  fine  actions.  The  na- 
tional taste  becomes  vitiated.  Home-life  grows  ar- 
tificial and  corrupt.  Seeming  is  exalted  above 
being. 

Rousseau,  though  born  in  Switzerland,  was  of 
French  origin,  lived  in  France,  and  was  the  incarna- 
tion of  French  sentimentalism.  His  father  is  de- 
scribed as  one  of  those  men  who  always  enjoy  incon- 
solable sorrow.  The  boy  inherited  the  same  dispo- 
sition, and  it  was  the  fashion  with  sire  and  son  to  sit 
down  together,  and  deliberately  work  each  other  up 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  369 

to  a  high  pitch  of  delectable  grief.  One  trained  to 
such  an  exaltation  of  the  fictitious,  naturally  became 
an  accomplished  cheat  and  an  unblushing  liar.  But, 
whenever  he  had  betrayed  a  friend,  he  was  wont  to 
betake  himself  to  some  place  of  retirement,  and 
there  indulge  in  a  spasm  of  remorseful  feel- 
ing, to  quiet  his  conscience  for  not  confessing  his 
crime  and  making  restitution  to  the  person  who  had 
been  wronged.  You  may  hear  him  expressing  his 
fervent  desire  to  protect  his  benefactress  from  the 
dishonesty  of  others,  and  see  him,  the  next  moment, 
appropriating  her  property  without  any  compunc- 
tions of  conscience,  on  the  ground  that,  if  she  must 
be  robbed,  he  was  entitled  to  the  largest  share  of  the 
plunder.  In  the  same  connection,  he  takes  pains 
thus  to  assure  the  world  that  he  prays  daily:  "  Not 
by  a  vain  stammering  of  the  lips,  but  a  sincere  ele- 
vation of  the  heart  to  the  Author  of  lovely  nature, 
whose  beauties  were  spread  out  before  my  eyes.  I 
never  like  to  pray  in  a  room;  it  seems  as  if  the  walls 
and  the  little  workmanship  of  man  interposed  be- 
tween God  and  myself." 

A  biographer  thus  describes  him  during  those 
happy  days  at  Charmettes:  "His  fine-strung  nature 
was  sensitive  to  all  things  tender;  the  far-off  sound 
of  bells,  the  cooing  of  turtle-doves,  all  touched  him 
to  tears,  he  could  not  tell  why.  Fondly  he  loved 
this  sweet  idleness — to  bask  in  the  sun,  or  to  loiter 
in  the  shadows  of  the  chestnuts,  to  gaze  for 
hours  on  the  lovely  scenery  of  the  floating 
clouds,  to  listen  to  the  songs  of  birds  or  to 
the  murmur  of  the  stream  over  its  pebbly  bed,  ever 
in  delicious  reverie,  and  in  simple  enjoyment  of  the 
passing  hour,  with  no  thought,  no  care  of  the  mor- 


370  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

row."  In  the  midst  of  such  scenes,  Rousseau  de- 
clares that  he  was  one  day  overcome  with  the  terrors 
of  hell;  which  he  quieted  forever  as  follows:  "I 
said  to  myself:  'I  will  throw  this  stone  at  the  tree 
opposite;  if  I  hit  it,  that  will  be  a  sign  of  salvation; 
if  I  miss  it,  that  will  be  a  sign  of  damnation.'  As  I 
said  this,  I  threw  a  stone  with  a  trembling  hand  and 
a  terrible  beating  of  the  heart,  but  so  happily  that 
it  struck  the  middle  of  the  tree,  which  was  not  a  very 
difficult  feat,  as  I  had  chosen  one  very  thick  and 
very  near.  Since  then  I  have  never  doubted  of  my 
salvation." 

In  the  next  view  that  we  get  of  our  sentimentalist, 
after  this  unique  settlement  of  the  question  of  his 
eternal  destiny,  he  is  engaged  in  one  of  the  disrepu- 
table love-affairs  in  which  his  life  abounds.  After 
his  nominal  marriage,  this  remarkable  father  sends 
his  five  children  to  the  foundling  hospital,  because 
the  expense  of  their  maintenance  would  be  perplex- 
ing, and  because  their  presence  would  disturb  the 
quiet  of  his  reflections.  But  thus  he  appeals  to  the 
world:  "  Pity  me,  for  I  am  childless.  I  can  not 
taste  the  sweetness  of  a  father's  embrace.  Had  I 
had  less  concern  for  what  might  have  become  of  my 
children,  I  should  have  left  them  to  their  mother, 
who  would  have  spoiled  them,  and  to  her  family,  who 
would  have  made  them  monsters." 

And  yet,  this  man,  who  cast  out  of  his  own  house 
his  helpless  offspring,  simply  because  they  would 
cry,  and  cost  money,  and  interrupt  his  reveries,  be- 
took himself  to  seclusion,  and  there  wrote  so  beauti- 
fully and  so  persuasively  concerning  the  duties  of 
motherhood,  that  he  revolutionized  the  public  senti- 
ment of  France,  and  had  the  giddy  women  of  the 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM. 

giddiest  nation  on  earth  sitting  humbly  at  his  feet, 
and  eagerly  inquiring  how  they  should  train  their 
boys  and  girls.  Moreover,  from  the  same  seclusion, 
on  which  no  child  of  his  own  was  ever  permitted  to 
intrude,  he  gave  to  the  world  those  first  principles  of 
primary  education,  which  were  afterward  borrowed 
and  made  popular  by  Pestalozzi  and  Froebel,  and 
which  have  become  the  inspiration  of  the  most  ag- 
gressive common-school  work  of  this  generation. 

A  similar  inconsistency  between  practice  and 
.doctrine  is  noticeable  in  all  directions.  He  assails 
the  artificial  literary  work  of  the  period,  but  makes 
his  own  reputation  by  cultivating  a  style  still  more 
affected. 

Passionately  fond  of  the  adulation  of  the  corrupt 
court  of  Louis  XV,  and  kept  from  kindred 
immoralities  by  nothing  but  lack  of  opportunity,  he 
sought  his  compensation  by  attacking  the  vices  of 
society  in  a  style  so  charming,  that  he  was  eagerly 
read  and  graciously  forgiven  by  those  whom  he  as- 
sailed. Enamored  of  aristocracy,  but  hating  it 
bitterly  because  he  felt  so  ill  at  ease  within  its 
charmed  circle,  he  became  the  zealous  apostle  of 
democracy,  and  formulated  those  doctrines  concern- 
ing the  rights  of  man,  which  captivated  Thomas 
Jefferson,  and  found  their  noblest  embodiment  in  the 
Declaration  of  American  Independence. 

But,  since  Rousseauism,  which  is  an  exact  synonym 
for  sentimentalism,  contributed  so  much  toward  the 
advancement  of  civilization,  should  we  not  seek  to 
forget  the  vices  of  its  author,  which  are  revealed  in 
his  Confessions,  and  remember  only  his  genius  for 
literary  form,  his  inimitable  skill  in  clothing  moral 
putrefaction  with  garments  angelic,  and  at  the  same 


37-2  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

time  his  paradoxical  advocacy  of  what  is  essential  to 
the  integrity  of  the  individual,  the  purity  of  home 
and  the  well-being  of  society?  Such  is  the  dictum  of 
a  popular  school  of  criticism.  To  this  school  natur- 
ally belong  those  who  desire  to  live  free  from  moral 
restraint,  and  who  seek  the  most  specious  excuses 
for  their  transgressions.  But  we  are  surprised  to  find 
sustaining  the  same  view  not  a  few  who  are  pure  in 
life,  and  who  would  not  seem  likely  to  be  carried 
away  with  a  doctrine  so  pernicious. 

In  reading  a  magazine  article,  your  eye  catches 
such  sentences  as  these:  "Art  has  nothing  to  do 
directly  with  morality  or  immorality."  "The  nude  in 
art  has  rendered  holy  the  beauty  of  woman."  "Every 
Greek  statue  pleads  for  mothers  and  sisters."  "  The 
Venus  de  Milo  is  a  melody  in  marble.  All  the  lines 
meet  in  a  kind  of  a  voluptuous  and  glad  content. 
The  eyes  are  filled  with  thoughts  of  love.  The  breast 
seems  dreaming  of  a  child.  Genius  is  the  spirit  of 
abandon.  It  is  joyous,  irresponsible.  It  moves  in  the 
swell  and  curve  of  billows.  It  is  careless  of  conduct 
and  consequences."  You  turn  to  the  name  at  the 
bottom  of  the  article,  and  simply  say  to  yourself:  "Of 
course." 

But  it  is  a  matter  of  wonder,  when  a  critic  like 
Matthew  Arnold  bewails  the  fact  that  his  ideal 
Shelley  has  been  forever  ruined  by  the  real  Shelley 
depicted  in  the  recent  biography  by  Professor  Dow- 
den.  All  the  world  ought  to  know  the  moral  life  of  genius. 
That  is  the  only  adequate  protection  against  the 
wide-spread,  contaminating  influence  of  the  prosti- 
tution of  the  noblest  faculties.  Genius  is  responsible. 
It  has  no  business  to  be  careless  of  conduct  arid  con- 
sequences. We  grapple  here  with  the  fundamental 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  373 

heresy  of  sentimentalism.  Genius  is  not  required  to 
become  either  a  New-Testament  exhorter,  or  a  pro- 
fessor of  didactic  theology.  It  has  a  wider  field; 
still  that  field  is  not  boundless.  Genius  is  under  the 
most  solemn  obligations  not  to  outrage  the  moral 
sense  of  mankind  in  its  own  generation.  Genius  can 
not  escape  either  the  letter  or  the  spirit  of  the  Seventh 
Commandment. 

Notwithstanding  'all  the  beautiful  things  which 
Rousseau  wrote  concerning  God  and  Christ  and 
prayer  and  devotion  and  virtue  and  chastity  and 
home  and  liberty  and  equality  and  universal  brother- 
hood, the  influence  of  his  life  and  of  his  writings, 
like  the  influence  of  the  life  and  writings  of  every 
other  sentimentalist,  must  always  be  pestiferous. 

That  influence  extended  from  France  to  Germany. 
Goethe  came  under  the  spell  of  Rousseau.  His 
range  of  intellectual  power  was  much  wider  than 
that  of  the  latter.  He  was  also  free  from  those  nar- 
row limitations  of  birth  and  doubtful  social  position 
which  made  the  latter  uncomfortable,  suspicious  and 
revengeful.  But,  so  far  as  the  sensibilities  were  con- 
cerned, the  two  men  had  much  in  common.  In  the 
gratification  of  appetite  and  passion,  they  were  char- 
acterized by  the  same  easy,  elastic  morality.  If  the 
grossness  could  be  removed  from  an  act,  they  felt 
little  scruple  about  its  criminality.  Whenever  the 
aesthetic  conflicted  with  the  ethical,  they  glorified  the 
aesthetic.  They  were  ever  eager  to  clasp  to  their 
hearts  impropriety  in  fine  attire,  rather  than  propriety 
in  the  garb  of  plainness. 

In  the  Sorrows  of  Werther,  the  trained  ear  will 
readily  detect  the  echo  of  Rousseau's  sobbing  senti- 
mentalism. The  voice  is  the  voice  of  the  Frenchman, 


374  SERMONS   AND   ADDRESSES. 

but  the  hands  are  the  hands  of  a  German.  So,  also, 
in  Goethe's  Correspondence  with  a  Child,  you  are  re- 
minded of  Jean  Jaques'  paternal  counsels  to  the 
Daughters  of  Paris.  And  again,  in  Elective  Affinities, 
it  is  manifest  that  the  German  retained  in  old  age,  a 
lingering  affection  for  the  Frenchman  who  had 
captivated  his  youthful  fancy. 

Sentimentalism,  did  not,  however,  become  a  nation- 
al craze  in  Germany,  as  it  had  'in  France.  For  a 
little  while,  the  country  seemed  infatuated  with  the 
doctrine;  but,  presently,  the  sturdy  common  sense  of 
the  people,  the  love  for  domestic  loyalty,  and  their 
veneration  for  genuine  virtue  resumed  their  sway. 

Goethe  himself  was  wise  enough  to  discern  the 
signs  of  the  times,  and  to  devote  his  splendid  abilities 
chiefly  to  nobler  ends.  But  there  was  always  in  his 
life  and  writings  a  strain  of  sentimentalism,  which 
leads  a  thoughtful  mind  to  ask,  what  might  have 
been  his  career  and  his  place  in  literature,  but  for 
the  restraining  influence  of  rank,  environment  and 
nationality. 

Laurence  Sterne  represents  the  English  phase  of 
sentimentalism.  It  is  peculiar  in  this:  that  it  was  not 
the  product  of  amorous  irregularities  which  the  au- 
thor sought  to  hide.  He  opened  this  vein  late  in 
life,  and  worked  it  hard  for  what  it  would  bring  in 
the  literary  market.  Carnal  passion  did  not  furnish 
his  motive  power.  Finding  himself  possessed  of  a 
rare  gift  for  sentimental  fancy  and  expression,  he 
deliberately  devoted  himself  to  the  cultivation  of 
that  gift;  neither  desiring  to  overturn  any  article  of 
moral  law,  nor  concerning  himself  at  all  respecting 
the  interests  of  virtue  and  religion,  parson  though  he 
was. 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM. 

The  Sentimental  Journey  is  one  long  search  for  sit- 
uations which  shall  afford  the  most  delicious  enjoy- 
ment of  the  emotions,  without  the  cost  of  a  sihgle 
disagreeable  self-denial.  Such  imaginary  scenes  of 
distress  intoxicate  the  soul  with  delight,  but  harden 
the  heart  to  the  appeals  of  genuine  grief.  The 
sentimentalist  will  turn  on  the  fountain  of  tears,  for 
every  highly-wrought  picture  of  suffering,  but  he 
never  has  any  hard  cash  for  a  flesh-and-blood 
Lazarus  full  of  disgusting  sores.  When  Sterne  takes 
you  on  a  sentimental  journey,  he  chooses  a  boule- 
vard-route, where  you  will  meet  no  funeral  proces- 
sions, and  where  an  ambulance  hurries  out  of  sight 
any  unfortunate  whose  head  gets  broken.  He  en- 
gages to  serve  up  to  you  only  such  fictitious  objects 
of  compassion  as  will  leave  your  heart  light,  and 
your  purse  heavy.  He  finds  no  special  pleasure  in 
conducting  you  to  haunts  forbidden  by  the  Seventh 
Commandment;  but  if  the  songs  of  the  sirens  are 
especially  bewitching,  he  is  quite  ready  to  go  that 
way.  One  breathes  the  same  enervating,  tropical 
atmosphere  in  Tristram  Shandy.  There  steals  upon 
the  reader  a  dreamy  unconsciousness  of  moral  dis- 
tinctions. 

The  story  of  Lefevre  is  matchless  in  literature. 

"  'He  shall  not  die!'  cried  my  uncle  Toby,  taking  the  name 
of  God  in  vain." 

"  The  accusing  spirit  which  flew  up  to  heaven's  chancery 
with  the  oath,  blushed  as  he  gave  it  in  :  and  the  recording 
angel,  as  he  wrote  it  down,  dropped  a  tear  upon  the  word,  and 
blotted  it  out  forever." 

When  criticism  pronounces  this  the  most  per- 
fect sentence  in  the  English  language,  what  cares 


376  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

sentimentalism  for  the  sacredness  of  the  Third  Com- 
mandment? 

The  influence  of  sentimentalism  on  Great  Britain 
has  not  been  well-defined  and  pronounced.  The  Nor- 
man strain  in  the  blood  welcomes  it  kindly,  but  the 
Saxon  strain  gives  it  cool  reception  ;  so  that,  instead 
of  exhibiting  a  large  body  of  votaries,  it  manifests 
itself,  here  and  there,  in  the  character  of  different 
individuals. 

America  has  given  birth  to  no  celebrated  senti- 
mentalist. As  people,  we  are  fairly  protected  from 
such  contamination  by  heredity  and  by  the  practical 
necessities  of  our  younger  civilization.  Still  you 
may  detect  this  drift  in  our  social  science,  our  edu- 
cational theories,  and  our  theological  speculations. 
Furthermore,  who  of  us  can  look  into  our  own 
hearts  and  declare  ourselves  free  from  this  evil  ten- 
dency? 

Young  men  and  young  women  are  more  exposed 
than  any  others  to  the  temptation.  The  age  from 
fourteen  to  twenty-one  is  the  period  sacred  to  senti- 
ment. If,  during  those  years  it  be  fostered  and  still 
kept  pure,  there  will  form  unconsciously  a  precious 
reserve  for  the  enlargement,  enrichment  and  adorn- 
ment of  character  through  all  the  future.  If,  on  the 
contrary,  it  be  pampered  into  sentimentalism,  the 
individual  will  degenerate  into  the  personification  of 
affectation,  insincerity,  hypocrisy  and  incontinence. 
Those  whose  minds  are  employed  in  study,  but 
whose  critical  faculties  have  had  little  rigid  discip- 
line, are  in  especial  danger  of  being  misled  by 
authors  of  the  school  passed  under  review.  Turn, 
now,  from  sentimentalism  to  realism.  We  have  seen 
that  the  former  is  essentially  vicious.  It  has  been 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  377 

mentioned,  incidentally,  that  the  latter  is  good  or 
bad,  according  to  the  goodness  or  the  badness  of 
the  realities  which  it  emphasizes.  The  two  lines  of 
thought  remain  for  treatment.  The  distinction  sug- 
gested is  usually  disregarded  by  the  apostles  of 
realism.  They  adroitly  represent  the  doctrine  as 
nothing  but  a  protest  against  sentimentalism.  They 
very  properly  decry  the  visionary,  the  affected,  the 
hypocritical ;  and  then  very  improperly  exalt  the  act- 
ual, the  commonplace,  the  carnal,  without  discrimi- 
nation. 

Art  should  be  realistic.  There  are  vast  fields  of 
nature  which  she  may  roam  over  and  copy,  without 
restraint.  She  may  thus  minister  to  aesthetic  de- 
light in  a  thousand  forms,  and  still  inflict  no  mortal 
wound.  But  wherever  in  sculpture  and  painting, 
exposure  will  excite  a  prurient  imagination  in  man 
or  woman,  boy  or  girl,  there  let  realism  stay  its  reve- 
lations, or  receive  the  anathemas  of  all  who  love 
honor  and  virtue.  It  is  not  the  primary  mission  of 
Art  to  teach  either  the  Ten  Commandments,  or  the 
Eleventh  Commandment.  She  is  called  to  minister 
to  human  delight,  but  only  to  such  delight  as  is  in- 
nocent. She  must  study  human  nature,  not  as  it 
might  be,  but  as  it  is,  with  its  hereditary  burdens,  and 
its  own  inclination  toward  lust.  She  has  ample  scope 
for  the  employment  of  all  her  noblest  powers,  in 
regions  which  are  free  from  suggestions  of  in- 
decency. The  realistic  painter  or  sculptor  who 
either  intentionally  or  unintentionally,  makes  naked- 
ness pander  to  carnality,  is  a  curse  to  the  world. 
The  zone  of  limitation  is  narrow,  but  it  is  clearly 
defined  to  moral  vision.  Human  nature  has  its 
equatorial  belt,  abounding  in  dangers  peculiar,  se- 


378  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ductive  and  soul-destroying.  He  who  trifles  with 
these,  under  the  disguise  of  a  specious  art-vocabu- 
lary, is  not  the  man  to  whom  those  who  are  wise 
would  entrust  sisters  or  daughters.  Realism  may 
range  the  frigid  zones  and  the  temperate  zones  with- 
out restraint,  but ,  when  she  enters  the  tropics,  let  her 
beware. 

I  must  not,  however,  dwell  longer  in  the  province 
of  sculpture  and  painting,  for  I  desire  to  confine  this 
short  study  mainly  to  the  realm  of  literature. 

As  the  Frenchman  is  naturally  sentimental,  the 
Englishman  is  naturally  realistic,  but  his  realism  is 
usually  of  the  better  kind.  Inductive  philosophy, 
which  considers  England  its  birthplace,  grounds 
itself  in  the  concrete  before  it  deals  with  the  abstract. 
The  poets  and  the  prose-writers  of  Britian  delight 
in  the  actual  and  the  tangible.  They  do  not  forget 
the  five  senses ;  still  they  do  not  make  them  all  to 
all.  The  sensible  serves  as  a  perch  from  which  the 
supersensible  soars  and  sings. 

This  is  not  so  strikingly  evident  in  the  times  of 
Chaucer  and  Spenser,  as  in  later  periods  when  the 
national  life  is  better  unified  and  the  national  litera- 
ture has  assumed  a  more  distinctive  character. 

Shakespeare  and  Milton  are  intensely  realistic. 
The  wholesome  moral  instinct  of  the  one  and  the 
fixed  moral  principle  of  the  other  keep  them  from 
glorifying  those  things  which  arouse  lascivious  fancy 
and  lead  to  beastliness.  There  are  a  few  sonnets 
which  we  could  wish  that  the  former  had  never 
written ;  the  latter  made  a  special  plea  for  easy 
divorce  which  is  inexcusable,  but  you  cannot  find 
any  great  distinctive  play  or  poem,  the  perusal  of 
which  imparts  a  seductive  fascination  even,  to  sins 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  379 

which  end  in  catastrophe.  In  this  respect,  the  real- 
ism of  Shakespeare,  when  it  seems  to  transgress  the 
boundaries  of  propriety,  is  like  the  realism  of  some 
portions  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  You  catch  your 
breath  with  apprehension,  but  are  immediately  re- 
lieved to  discover  that  you  have  received  neither 
stab,  stain  nor  smut.  A*  still  stronger  statement  is 
justifiable.  For  the  average  young  man,  Romeo  and 
Juliet  is  less  objectionable  than  Solomon's  Song.  If 
a  reading  circle  composed  of  both  sexes  were  ob- 
liged to  select  one  of  the  two,  the  Canticles  would  be 
worse  than  the  play.  But  Shakespeare  never  thought 
of  sermonizing,  and  Solomon  claimed  to  be  the 
"  preacher  "  of  his  generation. 

The  Lake-School  of  poetry  was  grounded  in  real- 
ism, though  the  flowers  of  sentiment  grow  there  so 
profusely  that  you  sometimes  forget  the  substratum  in 
the  decoration.  The  weirdness  of  the  Ancient  Mariner 
may  at  first  raise  the  question  whether  Coleridge  is 
not  to  be  classed  as  a  sentimentalist ;  but  if  you  will  re- 
read the  Rime  illustrated  by  Dore,  you  will  be  con- 
vinced of  the  intense  realism  of  the  poet's  genius. 
Wordsworth,  however,  is  the  high  priest  of  the 
school,  and  his  Excursion  is  its  best  typical  product. 
Plod  along  through  that  with  the  peddler  who  is  its 
hero,  and  you  will  have  no  further  doubt  that  the 
Lake-School  is  essentially  realistic. 

A  healthy  realism  characterizes  English  fiction. 
All  will  admit  this  concerning  Scott's  novels.  They 
copy  the  early  features  of  the  national  life  with  ac- 
curacy, but  the  reader  everywhere  breathes  a  whole- 
some moral  atmosphere.  More  recently,  Dickens 
and  Thackeray  uncover  the  lower  and  the  upper 
strata  of  society  in  such  a  way  that  vice  is  usually 


380  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

rendered  odious  and  virtue  attractive.  These  three 
are  the  fairest  representative  names  in  this  depart- 
ment of  literature. 

I  do  not  recall  any  conspicuous  British  author  of 
the  present  generation,  who  has  sought  to  popular- 
ize gross  realism,  unless  it  be  Swinburn.  That  was 
the  sin  of  his  youth,  which  he  seems  to  have  be- 
come ashamed  of  and  to  have  forsaken.  This  out- 
line, though  very  bald,  is  sufficient  to  justify  the  as- 
sertion that  the  bent  of  the  English  people  is  real- 
istic, but  at  the  same  time  opposed  to  any  perversion 
of  the  doctrine,  such  as  would  vitiate  literary  taste 
and  corrupt  public  morals.  America  has  inherited 
the  same  tendencies.  These  tendencies  have  been 
strengthened  by  the  task  of  subduing  a  new  conti- 
nent. 

The  breath  of  nature  comes  fresh  and  sweet  from 
the  verse  of  Bryant  and  Longfellow.  Life  among 
the  lowly  is  depicted  in  truthful  and  vigorous  lines 
upon  the  pages  of  Mrs.  Stowe.  Cooper  has  told  the 
story  of  the  aborigines  so  graphically  that  it  will 
never  need  to  be  re-told.  Those  phases  of  New 
England  conscience  and  character  portrayed  by 
Hawthorne's  genius,  are  the  exact  copy  of  the 
actual.  Painstaking  accuracy,  rather  than  rhetorical 
display,  is  the  law  which  has  governed  Bancroft, 
our  representative  historian. 

Still,  as  a  people,  we  are  more  tempted  than  our 
British  kinsmen  in  the  direction  of  corrupt  realism. 
This  is  in  part  the  natural  result  of  pioneer  life,  and 
in  part  due  to  the  influx  of  gross  foreign  elements. 
Time  will  do  much  toward  curing  the  evil,  but  it  is 
wise  to  watch  and  check  the  hurtful  tendency. 

Within  the  past  five  years,  there  has  been  in  the 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  381 

mother  country  and  in  our  own  land,  seemingly,  a 
concerted  plan  to  generate  and  propagate  what  may 
be  called  a  fleshly  school  in  American  literature. 
Walt  Whitman  is  the  "  head  centre"  of  the  move- 
ment. There  has  been  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlan- 
tic an  effort  to  exalt  the  author  of  The  Leaves  of  Grass, 
as  the  distinctly  American  poet.  What  can  be  dis- 
covered in  the  substance  or  in  the  form  of  his  verse 
to  entitle  him  to  credit  for  poetic  imagination  or 
diction,  is  beyond  the  writer's  comprehension.  In 
the  repulsive  realism  of  Don  Juan,  the  genius  of  By- 
ron does  sometimes  take  wing,  though  its  flights  are 
as  filthy  as  those  of  Virgil's  harpies.  But  Walt 
Whitman  never  rises  above  the  mire.  You  find  your- 
self applying  to  him  morally  the  epithets  which 
Prince  Hal  applied  to  Jack  Falstaff  physically : 
"This  huge  hill  of  flesh,  gross  as  a  mountain,  this 
ton  of  a  man,  greasy,  obscene,  this  bolting-hutch  of 
beastliness."  Very  strong  language,  but  abundant- 
ly justified  by  what  defiles  almost  every  page  of  the 
book!  It  would  outrage  the  proprieties  of  the  occa- 
sion, to  quote  even  one  of.  the  numerous  passages 
which  are  the  warrant  for  a  condemnation  so  sweep- 
ing. But  we  may  select  a  few  verses  which  will, 
without  shocking  the  sensibilities,  sufficiently  expose 
the  naked  fleshliness  of  much  which  is  courting  lit- 
erary favor  under  the  attractive  pseudonym  of  real- 
ism. Holy  Writ  declares  that  "  all  flesh  is  grass." 
Walt  Whitman  in  his  Leaves  of  Grass  teaches  that 
no  flesh  is  grass.  The  whole  volume  is  deification 
of  the  carnal  and  a  degradation  of  the  spiritual.  They 
say  that  there  is  a  test-glass  recently  invented  which 
enables  those  who  bore  artesian  wells  to  ascertain 
the  quality  of  the  veins  of  water  which  they  reach 


382  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

successively  as  the  work  progresses.  The  samples 
now  presented  are  dipped  up  from  near  the  surface. 
Only  remember  that  the  impurities  thicken  rapidly, 
the  deeper  you  drop  the  test-glass. 

"  Walt  Whitman,  an  American,  one  of  the  roughs,  a  kosmos, 

Disorderly,  fleshly,  sensual,  eating,  drinking,  breeding, 

No  sentimentalist — no  stander  above  men   or  women  or  apart 

from  them, 
No  more  modest  than  immodest." 

"  Through  me  forbidden  voices, 

Voices  of  sexes  and  lusts — voices  veiled  and  I  remove  the  veil, 

Voices  indecent,  by  me  clarified  and  transfigured." 

"  I  believe  in  the  flesh  and  the  appetite. 

Seeing,  hearing,  feeling,  are  miracles,  and  each   part  and  tag 

of  me  is  a  miracle, 
Divine  am  I  inside  and  out;  and  I  make  holy  whatever  I  touch 

or  am  touched  from. 
Welcome  is  every  organ  and  attribute  of  me,  and  of  any  man 

hearty  and  clean, 
Not  an  inch,  nor  a  particle  of  an  inch  is  vile,  and  none  shall  be 

less  familiar  than  the  rest. 
I  am  not  the  poet  of  goodness  only, — I  do  not  decline  to  be  the 

poet  of  wickedness  also." 

'•  What  blurt  is  this  about  virtue  and  about  vice  ? 
Evil  propels  me,  and   reform  of  evil   propels   me, — I   stand 
indifferent." 

"  Be  composed, — be  at  ease  with  me, — I  am  Walt  Whitman,  lib- 
eral and  lusty  as  nature. 

The  spotted  hawk  swoops  by  and  accuses  me,  he  complains  of 
my  gab  and  my  loitering. 

I  too  am  not  a  bit  tamed, — I  too  am  untranslatable, 

I  shout  my  barbaric  yawp  over  the  roofs  of  the  world. 

I  bequeath  myself  to  the  dirt,  to  grow  from  the  grass  I  love; 

If  you  want  me  again,  look  for  me  under  your  boot-soles." 

"I  own  that  I  have  been   sly,  thievish,  mean,   a  prevaricator, 

greedy,  derelict; 
And  I  own  that  !  remain  so  yet. 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  383 

What  foul  thought  but  I  think  it,— or  have  in  me  the  stuff  out 
of  which  it  is  thought  ? 

Beneath  this  face  that  appears  so  passive,  hell's  tides  continu- 
ally run. 

Lusts  and  wickedness  are  acceptable  to  me, 

I  walk  with  delinquents  with  passionate  love." 

Such  is  Walt  Whitman's  own  confession,  or  rather 
profession,  for  a  confession  indicates  shame,  and 
you  look  in  vain  for  the  trace  of  a  blush  on  the  face 
of  him  who  thus  declares  his  creed.  The  verses  se- 
lected may  be  read  without  impropriety  in  a  mixed 
company;  but  they  forcibly  suggest  that  there  must 
be  much  suppressed  because  of  its  uncleanliness. 
Should  I  drop  the  test-glass  from  the  upper  and  less 
vile  currents  on  which  I  have  used  it,  down  to  those 
"  tides  of  hell  "  which  the  author  declares  "  continu- 
ally run, "  I  should  bring  utterances  to  the  surface 
which  would  lead  virtue  to  stop  her  ears  or  bid  me 
be  silent. 

From  a  merely  artistic  stand-point,  what  is 
there  to  admire  in  the  versification?  Compared  with 
the  exquisite  literary  finish  of  Edgar  A.  Poe's  work- 
manship, or  even  with  the  rustic  sweetness  of  John  G. 
Whittier's  song,  the  volume  before  us  cannot  be 
more  fitly  described  than  in  the  author's  own  words, 
as  one  prolonged  "  barbaric  yawp.  "  The  dialect  of 
the  Biglow  Papers  and  the  slang  which  flavors  much 
of  our  "  wild-west  "  verse,  have  some  show  of  justifi- 
cation in  their  naturalness,  but  the  very  metre  in  the 
stanzas  quoted,  if  there  be  any  metre,  repels  with  its 
turgid  affectation. 

In  the  name  of  literary  form,  we  ought  to  protest 
against  the  effort  to  glorify  Walt  Whitman  as  the 
great  representative  American  poet.  In  the  name 


384      i  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

of  common  decency,  we  should  cry  out  still  more 
loudly  against  all  attempts  in  this  republic  to  nat- 
uralize unmitigated  nastiness  by  dubbing  it  Ameri- 
can realism. 

The  realistic  movement  in  this  country  is  receiv- 
ing no  little  aid  and  comfort  from  the  Russian  pas- 
sion of  the  last  two  years.  Russia  bids  fair  to  become 
as  natural  a  home  for  realism  in  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury, as  France  became  for  sentimentalism  in  the 
eighteenth.  The  doctrine  shows  the  rankest  growth 
in  the  soil  of  autocracy.  The  coarse  animalism  of 
Peter  the  Great  and  of  Catherine,  his  mistress  and 
queen,  have  been  propagated  till  they  are  charac- 
teristic of  the  whole  empire.  To  the  truth  of  this 
statement  the  novels  of  Tolstoi  bear  unblushing  wit- 
ness. While  democracy  on  this  continent  cannot 
consistently  sympathize  with  the  most  aggressive 
absolutism  of  the  Old  World,  while  our  people  in- 
stinctively condemn  the  unscrupulous  policy  of  the 
court  of  St.  Petersburg,  which  is  constantly  menac- 
ing the  peace  of  Europe,  we  are  suddenly  bewitched 
with  Russian  realism  in  literature.  The  infatuation 
is  as  strange  as  that  of  the  fair  Titania  for  the  beast- 
ly Bottom  in  Midsummer-Night's  Dream.  May  it 
prove  as  transient ! 

How  shall  we  account  for  this  literary  freak? 
Partly  from  Tolstoi's  remarkable  intellectual  power, 
partly  from  the  zeal  of  his  friends,  partly  from  the 
prurient  curiosity  always  awakened  by  a  discussion 
of  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  partly  from  a  general 
disposition  to  think  well  of  a  celebrity  simply  because 
we  hear  him  frequently  mentioned  with  admiration. 
The  writer  must  acknowledge  that,  chiefly  from  the 
last  consideration,  till  recently,  he  had  been  favora- 


SENTIMENTALISM  AND  REALISM.  385 

bly  impressed  concerning  the  author.  But  a  few 
weeks  ago,  not  satisfied  with  the  hear-say  and  ex- 
tract notion,  he  gave  himself  up  to  a  thorough  study 
of  Anna  Karenina,  which  Tolstoi  pronounces  his 
best  representative  book. 

It  would  not  be  germane  to  the  present  discuss- 
ion to  enter  at  great  length  upon  the  social  and  spir- 
itual views  brought  out  through  the  character  of 
Levin,  in  whom  Tolstoi  would  have  us  see  the 
likeness  of  himself,  but  it  is  only  just  to  say  that 
there  is  in  the  volume  little  to  warrant  the  charge 
of  nihilistic  teaching  in  politics,  or  aggressive 
doctrine  in  religion.  While  the  novelist's  vision 
is  clouded  concerning  both  social  and  theistic 
science,  there  is  no  sufficient  reason  for  the  alarm 
of  those  who  apprehend  disaster  to  state  and 
church  as  the  consequence  of  his  influence.  The 
body  of  the  book  is,  however,  of  the  flesh  fleshly.  The 
story  may  be,  it  probably  is,  a  truthful  picture  of 
Russian  morals.  Due  allowance  should  be  made 
for  the  deadening  of  the  author's  delicacy  by  birth, 
education  and  environment.  But  after  all,  you  can- 
not hide  from  yourself  the  gusto  with  which  he  rev- 
els in  scenes  of  conjugal  infidelity,  through  more 
than  seven  hundred  closely-printed  pages.  You 
recognize  the  hand  of  genius,  but  it  is  a  genius  that 
delights  in  putting  its  hand  to  dirty  work.  The  hus- 
band loves  some  other  woman  than  his  wife.  The 
wife  loves  some  other  man  than  her  husband.  Now 
let  this  be  italicized  as  the  distinguishing  peculiarity 
of  the  representative  novel,  though  retribution  fol- 
lows trangression:  the  story  is  so  artfully  told  that  your 
sympathies  are  enlisted  for  every  culprit.  The  breakage 
of  the  Seventh  Commandment  is  made  to  appear  a 


386  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

pathetic  misfortune  rather  than  an  unpardonable 
crime.  Thus  sentimentalism  and  realism,  seem- 
ing to  move  in  opposite  directions  at  the  outset,  de- 
scribe a  semicircle  and  meet  in  the  common  point 
of  opposition  to  a  most  sacred  article  of  the  Deca- 
logue. 

The  type  of  American  realism  is  essentially  virtu- 
ous, but  exposed  to  certain  corrupting  tendencies. 
The  type  of  Russian  realism  is  essentially  vicious, 
with  few  redeeming  features.  That  individual  life 
and  home-life  and  social  life  in  this  Republic  may 
remain  pure  and  sweet,  let  our  young  men  and  young 
women  be  taught  to  keep  out  of  the  filthy  current 
of  Whitman's  verse,  and  to  avoid  the  seductive  spell 
of  Tolstoi's  fiction. 


EARLY     MEMORIES.* 

In  the  long  ago,  I  heard  a  "pinafore"  chorus,  and 
thus  it  ran:  "Unlucky  Sucker  though  you  be,  in  this 
take  comfort,  that  your  father  and  your  mother, 
your  brothers  and  your  sisters,  and  your  uncles  and 
your  aunts  all  hailed  from  Yankee-land."  The  first 
enigma  of  life  to  perplex  my  childish  mind  was  the 
query,  why  did  not  Providence  ordain  that  I  should 
be  born  a  little  sooner,  that  my  eyes  should  open  to 
the  light  in  Litchfield  county,  Conn.,  and  not  in 
Morgan  county,  111.?  That  mystery,  with  raven 
wing  and  dismal  croak,  overshadowed  boyhood. 

In  the  course  of  time,  a  portion  of  the  family,  tak- 
ing me,  moved  to  Springfield,  and  then  came  the 
dawning  of  relief.  I  started  to  school.  The  first 
morning,  the  scholars  gathered  in  the  usual  way 
around  the  raw  recruit.  "  Where  did  you  hail  from, 
youngster?"  sang  out  someone.  "  We  came  from 
Warren,  Litchfield  county,  Connecticut,"  was  the 
quick  response.  A  loud  laugh  followed  and  the  wag 
of  the  crowd  cried:  "Here's  an  odd  chick;  let's  dub 
him  Yankee  Tanner."  The  nick-name  stuck  for 
years.  When  I  went  home  that  day,  boasting  of  the 
new  appellation,  relatives  began  to  wonder,  for  the 
first  time,  whether  the  boy  might  not  possibly  be 
worth  bringing  up  after  all. 

Down-East  poets  have  often  sung  the  praises  of 
pumpkin  pie,  but  our  people  glorified  huckleberry 


*An  address  at  the  semi-centennial  celebration  of  Waverly, 
111.,  President  Tanner's  birth-place. 


388  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

pie  instead,  until  I  grew  to  think  that  it  must  be  an 
eatable  fit  to  crown  the  dessert  of  the  Immortals. 
One  year,  some  of  the  far-off  friends  sent  us  a  few 
huckleberries,  and  I  looked  at  last  upon  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  dream — a  huckleberry  pie.  I  tasted — 
the  charm  was  broken.  I  went  out  into  a  blackberry 
patch,  and  ate,  and  was  comforted. 

There  was  another  family  tradition,  that  the  only 
way  to  find  a  decent  wife  was  to  look  for  her  among 
the  huckleberry  bushes,  and  so,  after  awhile,  I  went 
huckleberrying  down  in  Connecticut, — but  she  wasn't 
there.  And  then  I  came  back  and  went  blackberry- 
ing  again,  and  found  her — and  was  comforted  once 
more. 

Step  a  moment  now  upon  abroad  prairie  platform, 
not  as  a  democrat,  not  as  a  republican,  but  simply 
as  an  Illinoisan.  When  one  rides  along  the  Central 
railroad  into  Chicago,  and  passes  the  statue  of 
Douglas  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  reflects 
upon  the  state's  vast  material  resources,  so  largely 
due  to  the  Little  Giant's  wisdom  and  energy;  or  when 
one  climbs  the  monument  at  Oak  Ridge,  and  sits 
down  at  the  feet  of  the  colossal  figure  of  the  Great 
Emancipator,  and  reviews  the  past  and  forecasts  the 
future;  or  again,  when  one  listens,  and  the  autumn 
air  vibrates  with  the  midsummer  lamentation  of  the 
nations,  over  the  mighty  warrior  whom  our  own 
state  sent  to  deliver  the  republic,  and  to  win  the  ad- 
miration of  the  world, — who — who  would  blush  for 
nativity  in  Illinois? 

But  such  a  strain  better  befits  some  Independence 
day,  than  it  does  this  humble  semi-centennial  home 
celebration.  The  occasion  calls  not  so  much  for  a 


EARLY  MEMORIES.  389 

wide  spread  of  canvas  as  for  plenty  of  vivid  local 
coloring. 

"Waverly's  first  baby!"  James  Woods -is  the  only 
man  who  has  ever  disputed  the  speaker's  right  to 
that  honor.  Even  he  did  not  seek  to  establish  pre- 
cedence^ but  only  what  you  might  call  a  coincidence. 
Years  ago,  however,  I  proved  an  alibi  on  James, 
showing  that  he  made  his  appearance,  outside  the  city 
limits,  according  to  the  original  survey  by  Deacon 
Theodore  Curtiss  and  Judge  Julius  Peck.  Moreover, 
I  showed  conclusively,  that  I  arrived  within  the  cor- 
poration early  in  the  evening,  while  James  did  not 
.reach  the  suburbs  until  along  towards  morning. 

For  some  unexplained  reason,  nobody  wanted  to 
be  born  in  Waverly,  for  the  first  two  or  three  years; 
but,  as  soon  as  your  speaker  set  the  example,  Nov. 
29,  1837,  the  idea  became  exceedingly  popular.  By 
the  census  of  1840,  babies  were  decidedly  common. 
And,  from  that  day  to  this,  cribs  and  trundle-beds 
have  figured  heavily  in  the  commercial  transactions 
of  the  place. 

What  has  become  of  that  first  cradle?  It  was  a 
rough,  homely  affair,  very  little  like  the  light  and 
graceful  patterns  of  the  present;  still  that  did  not 
make  the  father's  benediction  less  fervent,  the 
mother's  kiss  less  sweet.  Better  such  a  cradle,  with 
its  atmosphere  of  faith  and  consecration,  than  one 
dainty  and  luxurious,  but  fanned  not  by  the  wings  of 
the  angel  of  the  covenant. 

And  what  has  become  of  the  old  house  at  "  The 
Range?"  It  has  vanished,  and  no  one  can  tell  pre- 
cisely where  it  stood.  I  went  there  some  time  ago 
and  looked  in  vain  for  traces  of  the  structure.  Then 
I  reproached  myself,  that  I  had  not  gone  years  before, 


390  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

and  at  least  set  out  a  tree  to  mark  the  spot.  In  youth 
we  never  realize  what  a  value  there  will  be  in  old 
things  by-and-by,  and  so  we  take  no  pains  for  their 
preservation.  When  at  length  we  bethink  ourselves 
and  reach  out  after  them,  they  have  disappeared  for- 
ever. 

The  half  century  has  witnessed  here  nothing 
startling,  nothing  dramatic.  The  great  world  cares 
little  for  this  celebration.  We  have  met  merely  as  a 
little  company  of  survivors  who  want  to  get  nearer 
together,  by  talking  reverently  of  the  dead  and  lov- 
ingly of  the  living.  The  scenes  of  long  ago  were 
ordinary  scenes,  the  men  and  women  of  long  ago 
were  unpretending  men  and  women;  yet  to  the  child 
they  had  an  importance  and  dignity,  which,  in  his 
maturity,  he  does  not  connect  with  any  other  scenes, 
or  with  any  other  men  and  women. 

I  went  one  day  through  the  Pillsbury  mills  at 
Minneapolis,  the  largest  flouring  mills  on  the  conti- 
nent, yet  they  made  upon  me  no  such  impression  of 
vastness,  as  did  that  old  Cook  and  Eastman  mill, 
which  was  the  wonder  of  the  little  world  of  my  child- 
hood. 

I  meet,  now  and  then,  some  judge,  learned  and 
majestic,  but  I  have  no  such  overpowering  sense  of 
my  own  insignificance,  as  I  felt  in  my  boyhood  in 
the  presence  of  Judge  Julius  B.  Peck.  There  was  an 
indescribable  awfulness  about  that  title.  Judges 
were  not  so  common  then.  Judge  Peck  stood  alone, 
"grand,  gloomy  and  peculiar,"  before  my  juvenile 
imagination. 

Edifices  more  imposing  than  the  Waverly  Seminary 
may  be  found  anywhere;  but  the  stories  told  of  the 
school  days  of  John  Lamb,  John  Cook,  Henry  Baker, 


EARLY  MEMORIES. 


391 


and  Charlie  Lippincott,  had  a  fascination  all  their 
own. 

No  other  exhibition  has  ever  seemed  so  tragic  and 
tremendous,  as  the  one  in  that  ancient  building,  when 
the  performers  were  arrayed  in  uniforms  fresh  from 
Cerro  Gordo  and  Buena  Vista,  when  Charlie  Salter 
figured  as  a  high  private,  and  his  brother  John  was 
gorgeous  in  a  general's  trappings.  How  the  cold 
chills  raced  up  and  down  the  boy's  spinal  column,  as 
he  heard  the  words  of  that  command,  which  still 
rings  in  memory  across  the  chasm  of  forty  years: 
"Seize  the  traitor  and  bind  him  to  yonder  post!"  No 
Keene,  no  Booth,  no  Macready  could  now  freeze  my 
blood,  as  did  the  terrible  voice  of  General  John  C. 
Salter,  upon  that  night  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Doubtless  college  boys  go  courting  very  much  the 
same  from  generation  to  generation;  still,  when  I 
watch  them  now-a-days,  the  proceedings  seem  very 
tame,  compared  with  the  enthusiasm  of  William 
Holmes  and  Thomas  Beecher,  who,  driving  down 
from  Jacksonville  in  hot  haste,  and  impatient  of  de- 
lay, were  wont  to  salute  Mary  and  Julia,  through  the 
opening  made  by  the  compassionate  stakes  between 
the  rider  and  the  rail  below. 

Will  my  heart  ever  swell  again  with  the  admiration 
felt  at  seeing  that  ox-loving  brother,  Elisha,  swing 
to  the  line  six,  eight,  or  ten  yoke  of  cattle,  it  mattered 
not  how  many;  or  one  of  the  Curtiss  or  Carter  or 
Post  boys,  (as  these  old  boys  of  three  score  and 
more  called  one  another  then),  string  out  the  horses, 
pair  after  pair,  to  match  the  cattle? 

That  brother  went,  the  other  year,  to  work  over 
yonder,  for  Him  "whose  are  the  cattle  on  a  thousand 
hills," — and  Theo.,  and  Gust.,  and  Fred.,  and  Platt., 


392  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

and  George,  and  Roll.,  the  lines  that  used  to  fill  your 
hands,  are  dropping,  one  by  one,  from  the  fingers 
which  are  losing,  little  by  little,  their  grip  and  cun- 
ning. Who  knows  how  soon  the  great  Revelation 
may  come,  and  you  may  hear  the  clattering  hoofs  of 
the  white  horses  of  the  Apocalypse! 

The  railroads  have  spoiled  the  romance  of  getting 
the  pork  and  the  beef  to  market.  Wasn't  it  fun  to 
count  the  steers,  as  they  passed  by  in  the  lane,  or  to 
watch  them  in  their  stampedes  through  the  tall 
prairie  grass,  on  their  way  to  St.  Louis  for  slaughter. 
What  marvelous  stories  the  hog-drovers  used  to  tell, 
around  the  fire,  during  the  long  winter  evenings,  and 
how  the  huddling  swine  kept  up  the  music  out  in  the 
yard,  the  night  long!  Who  in  these  days  knows  the 
peculiar  zest  of  a  sleigh-ride,  with  a  pack  of  wolves 
following  close  behind,  with  burning  eyes  and  hungry 
howl  ? 

What  has  become  of  the  great  flocks  of  cranes  that 
used  to  migrate  to  and  fro,  now  seeming  but  a  far- 
away voice,  coming  from  so  many  flecks  of  cloud  in 
the  zenith,  and  now  alighting  in  long  lines,  to  dance 
the  grotesquest  dances,  to  the  most  unearthly  music. 
It  was  the  speaker's  special  ambition,  for  years,  to 
capture  one  of  these  ungainly  birds.  He  remembers, 
as  if  it  were  only  .yesterday,  being  told  that  Martin 
Peet  had  caught  one  at  last.  Imagine  the  boy's  dis- 
gust, when  his  informer  showed  him  little  John  Grain. 
But  the  captor  never  ceased  to  mention,  that  though 
the  bird  was  not  much  for  legs  and  neck,  he  had  a 
mighty  long  head.  Another  of  the  long-headed  men 
was  Newton  Cloud,  the  preacher-politician,  the  leader 
of  his  own  party  in  this  region,  and  trusted,  as  a  man 


EARLY  MEMORIES.  393 

and  a  Christian,  even  by  those  who  cast  their  votes 
against  him  in  vain,  for  more  than  thirty  years. 

And  then  there  was  William  Givens,  the  oracle  of 
Apple  Creek,  who,  from  the  top  of  that  old  hill,  had 
but  to  give  the  signal,  and  Muddy  and  Franklin  hur- 
ried to  the  ramparts,  ready  for  battle.  Did  you  ever 
know  a  Waverly  boy  to  whom  Givens'  hill  did  not 
always  rise  to  mind,  as  the  type  of  whatever  was  most 
arduous  in  life?  Did  you  ever  know  a  Waverly  boy 
who  could  sing  "  I'm  climbing  up  Ziori's  Hill"  with- 
out sticking  in  "  Givens"  instead? 

This  is  not  a  day  for  partizanship,  yet  the  mention 
of  those  old-time  democrats  suggests  some  of  the 
other  faith.  The  Jacksonville  and  South-Eastern 
was  not  the  first  railroad  that  ran  through  this  part 
of  the  country.  There  were  always  plenty  of  appli- 
cants for  positions  as  station  agents,  and  conductors, 
along  the  under-ground  through  line  to  Canada. 

Your  memories  supply  names  which  I  need  not 
call.  One  man,  however,  so  gloried  in  his  zeal,  that 
he  ought  not  be  passed  by  in  silence, — Ebenezer 
Miller.  He  taught  me  to  count  with  red  corn  ;  but 
I  remember  him  better  in  another  way.  I  see  him 
now,  away  back  in  '47,  in  the  old  Seminary  on  Sun- 
day, between  the  morning  and  the  afternoon  services, 
eating  doughnuts  and  discussing  orthodoxy  and  ab- 
olitionism, principally  abolitionism.  I  had  not 
grown  to  care  much,  either  for  sound  doctrine,  or 
for  Sambo  ;  but  how  I  wished  Mr.  Miller  and  his 
big  boy,  Henry,  would  quit  their  everlasting  talking 
and  give  me  a  couple  of  doughnuts. 

Less  prone  to  disputation,  yet  no  less  constant  at 
those  Sunday  services  of  the  primitive  days,  when 
John  F.  Brooks,  Elisha  Jenney,  C.  G.  Selleck,  Rollin 


394 


SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 


Mears  and  Alvin  Dixon  ministered  here,  were  the 
Holmeses,  father  and  sons ;  the  Posts,  father  and 
sons  ;  the  Moultons,  father  and  sons ;  the  Peets,  the 
Peases,  the  Thayers,  the  Goes,  the  Roots,  the  Arch- 
ers, the  Wadhamses  and  the  Salters,  all  good  men 
and  true.  James  Salter  was  a  romantic  novel  reader 
when  the  town  was  founded.  Scott  was  his  favorite 
author.  Hence  came  to  the  village  the  name  of 
Waverly,  so  that  the  last  syllable  should  have  an  e. 
Mr.  Salter  is  here  to-day  and  the  two  moss-roses  on 
his  cheeks  are  as  red,  as  when  my  cousin  Miranda 
fell  in  love  with  them  half  a  century  ago.  No  less 
honored  were  the  names  of  Turner,  the  village  black- 
smith, and  Ross,  the  martyr  of  Shiloh.  Friends,  on 
your  next  visit  to  Chicago,  go  and  see  the  Shiloh 
panorama.  And  as  you  look  upon  the  picture  of 
that  frightful  carnage,  drop  a  grateful  tear  to  the 
memory  of  Col.  John  W.  Ross,  who  died  for  the  re- 
public upon  that  battle-field. 

Mention  should  be  made  of  Godfrey,  Rohrer, 
Caruthurs,  Kennedy,  Ward,  Filley,  the  carpenter 
who  built  the  first  house  in  town ;  Huntley,  who 
made  harness  while  his  wife  made  sweet  bread  and 
still  sweeter  poetry  ;  Wemple,  Lindley,  Hutchinson, 
Uncle  Sam  Javins,  Achilles  Deatherage,  Uncle 
Billy  Deatherage,  the  first  postmaster ;  Sevier, 
Agard,  Bigelow,  the  model  church  sexton;  Lombard, 
Tietgen  Sperry,  Everett,  Farmer,  Hanly,  Palmer, 
Taylor,  Vanwinkle,  Taintor,  Gunnels,  Simms,  Rice, 
Jones,  Waller,  Samples,  Rhodes,  Meacham,  Manson, 
Woods,  Gould,  Ham,  Barker,  Metcalf,  Hitchcock, 
Church,  Harmon,  Watson,  Hughes,  Miner,  Nelson, 
Grossman,  Eldred,  Jarmin,  Knapp,  Hopkins,  Henry, 
Challen,  Hall  and  Harris.  Mr.  Harris  figures  as 


EARLY  MEMORIES. 


395 


Waverly's  "two  bits  "  hero.  The  legend  runs,  that, 
when  he  reached  the  town,  he  had  no  money.  Pres- 
ently there  came  a  letter  from  his  distant  "sweet- 
heart," but  the  postage  was  not  paid,  and  letter  pos- 
tage was  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  then.  Uncle  Billy  was 
afraid  to  trust  him,  but  said  he  wanted  a  hundred 
white  oak  rails,  and  said  that  there  were  ax  and 
wedges  and  beetle,  and  yonder  were  the  trees. 
Young  Harris  looked  at  the  ax,  looked  at  the 
wedges,  looked  at  the  beetle,  looked  once  more  at 
the  letter — and  struck  a  bee  line  for  the  timber. 

Let  the  speaker  make  grateful  mention  of  Claudius 
Sackett,  who,  from  the  love  that  he  bore  to  the 
father,  always  had  some  word  of  encouragement,  or 
something  more  substantial  still,  for  the  boy. 

Some  of  you  with  strong  arms  have  brought  in 
and  placed  near  by  Stephen  Allis,  who  is  still  bright 
in  mind,  but  helpless  in  body.  There  was  a  funeral 
at  "The  Range"  forty-seven  years  ago.  A  living 
boy  lay  in  a  cradle,  and  a  dead  boy  lay  in  a  coffin. 
The  father  and  mother  of  the  former  tried  to  com- 
fort the  weeping  father  and  mother,  and  the  latter 
said:  "  give  us  your  boy,  to  take  home  instead  of 
our  own." — God  bless  you,  my  would-be  father  by 
adoption ;  take  home  with  you  to-day  my  love  to 
my  would-be  mother  my  adoption,  who  in  weakness, 
painfulness  and  decrepitude  waits  for  the  Master's 
call. 

There  were  two  typical  deacons  in  that  early  day. 
Possibly  they  were  no  better  than  the  deacons  of  a 
later  generation;  yet,  to  the  child  they  were  sur- 
rounded with  a  halo  of  sanctity,  which  refuses  to 
gather  around  any  others  in  that  office.  Cleveland  J. 
Salterand  Dr.  Isaac  H.  Brown  are  associated  in  mind, 


396  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

with  the  best  Heavenly  portion,  and  the  best  earth- 
ly portion.  Some  of  my  first  thoughts  of  the  life 
beyond  were  awakened  by  Deacon  Salter's  solemn 
appeal,  as  one  day,  on  the  old  North  farm,  I  dropped 
the  corn  for  him  to  cover  where  the  hills  were  miss- 
ing. 

And  later,  when  there  came  over  the  youth  that 
human  longing  which  none  escape,  and  he  went  to 
the  old  doctor  about  it,  how  nervously  the  young 
man  watched  the  latter  breaks  sticks  over  the  blade  of 
his  pen-knife,  in  the  way  which  many  of  you  remem- 
ber, till  that  awful  silence  was  broken  by  a  delight- 
ful little  speech  about  "  the  hand  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence "  in  the  affair  in  question. 

Had  Lumas  Hoyt  lived  to  see  this  half  century  cel- 
ebration, he  would  have  been  more  than  a  century 
old — three  years  the  senior  of  "  Uncle  Homer  Cur- 
tiss."  The  two  might  have  sat  here  together,  this 
afternoon,  and  have  counted  out  a  round  two  hun- 
dred years.  Father  Hoyt's  lasts  were  sometimes  a 
trifle  behind  the  fashion,  but  who  else  ever  made 
such  boots  and  shoes  to  weart  Moreover,'  in  theol- 
ogy, few  of  the  ministers  were  as  well  read  and  as 
sound.  You  could  not  spend  an  hour  with  more 
pleasure  and  profit  than  in  taking  a  seat  in  that  lit- 
tle shop,  and  in  watching  him  drive  in  the  pegs, 
while  he  talked  of  the  leading  divines  of  the  early- 
part  of  the  century. 

Knowing  that  I  came  last  on  the  long  program 
for  this  occasion,  I  felt  that  I  could  do  little  more 
than  allude  in  this  hurried  way  to  the  men  whose 
faces  were  familiar  in  childhood.  I  have  tried  to 
give  the  names,  at  least,  of  all  whom  I  could  remem- 
ber. Possibly,  some  have  escaped  recollection. 


EARLY  MEMORIES.  397 

Other  persons,  who  were  even  more  prominent,  may 
have  been  omitted,  from  the  fact  that  the  little  cir- 
cle in  which  the  speaker  moved  as  a  boy  did  not 
extend  so  far.  Let  any  oversight  be  charged  to  ig- 
norance, and  not  to  intention. 

No  reference  has  been  made  to  any  except  the 
friends  who  figured  here  during  the  first  half  of  the 
half  century.  If  there  were  time,  it  would  be  de- 
lightful to  review  the  second  half — to  talk  of  many 
whom  the  last  twenty  years  have  made  near  and 
dear;  of  a  brother  minister  whom  we  are  glad  to 
welcome  here  once  more;  of  an  old  associate  in 
the  seminary,  when  we  issued  the  flaming  hand  bills, 
in  which  that  blundering  printer,  by  an  abominable 
abbreviation,  made  us  pledge  ourselves  to  furnish 
mathematics,  Latin  and  Greek,  in  unlimited  quanti- 
ties, at  so  much  per  quart.  (Ralph,  weren't  those 
white  days  for  you  and  me?)  Recall  the  school 
board,  the  sturdy  boys  and  the  pretty  girls  that  we 
taught,  some  of  whom  are  here«to-day,  fathers  and 
mothers,  with  numerous  editions  of  themselves.  But 
most  are  scattered,  and  not  a  few  are  beyond  recall. 
Some  died  for  country;  some  have  fallen  in  their 
prime:  Humphrey,  Barker,  Gould,  Godfrey, 
Meacham,  Lindley,  Cunningham,  Frederick  Brown 
and  Adoniram  Carter. 

And  there  was  the  Shakespeare  Club.  Such  meet- 
ings and  suppers  as  we  had  at  Thayer's,  and  Nich- 
ols', and  Curtiss',  and  Caldwell's,  and  Salter's  and 
McKee's!  Good-bye,  romance!  There's  a  frog  in 
the  throat,  Bob,  and  John,  there's  a  mist  before  the 
eyes.  The  story  grows  too  long.  The  speaker  must 
pass  by  the  rich  and  abundant  reminiscences  from 
1860  to  1885.  Waverly  was  dear  in  childhood  ; 


39$  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Waverly  is  dearer  still  in  manhood.  Her  citizens 
began  the  half  century  by  building  and  consecrat- 
ing to  Christian  learning  the  old  seminary  in  Wav- 
erly. Her  citizens  have  closed  the  half  century 
with  most  generous  contributions  toward  the  per- 
manent endowment  of  the  old  college  at  Jackson- 
ville. The  spirit  of  the  fathers  descendeth  unto 
the  sons.  Friends  of  the  past,  and  friends  of  the 
present,  with  full  heart  I  would  express  to  you  all 
my  gratitude. 

But  a  look  of  reproach  is  visible  upon  some  of 
these  faces.  It  says,  do  you  remember  only  the 
men  of  other  days?  Have  you  forgotten  the  sisters 
and  wives  and  mothers  of  long  ago?  No!  no!  But, 
somehow,  I  have  shrunk  from  making  free  with 
their  names  on  this  public  occasion.  Only  an 
orphan  boy  can  appreciate  an  older  sister's  patient, 
unselfish,  life-long  affection.  The  companions  of 
that  sister  have  come  to  seem  like  so  many  older 
sisters,  too.  And  'within  memory's  most  sacred 
shrine  hang  the  pictures  of  saintly  women,  who 
loved  the  boy's  mother,  and  watched  with  her  day 
and  night,  and  laid  her  in  the  coffin,  and  followed 
her  to  the  grave,  and  wept  there,  forty  years  ago. 
And,  afterwards,  the  husband  of  one  of  those  saintly 
women  sowed  with  grass  the  double  mound  that 
marks  the  resting  place  of  the  father  and  mother  of 
Waverly's  first  child.  And  the  old  sentinel  still 
keeps  his  solitary  watch  near  by,  though  his  steps 
totter  beneath  the  burdens  of  a  century. 

Friends  of  the  younger  day,  be  patient  a  moment 
more.  Let  the  century  speak  to  the  half-century. 
Said  I,  not  long  ago,  to  Uncle  Homer  Curtiss,  the 
venerable  patriarch  of  Waverly:  "What  period  of 


EARLY  MEMORIES.  399 

your  life  is  sweetest  in  the  recollection?"  Replied 
he:  "The  days  when  Charry  and  I  were  poor  ;  the 
days  when  we  were  struggling  to  make  a  home  ;  the 
days  when  we  were  trying  to  train  our  children  up 
to  Christian  manhood  and  womanhood." 

Said  I  :  "  What  is  the  best  safeguard  of  the  house- 
hold?" Said  he  :  "The  altar  of  prayer." 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.* 


There  is  a  certain  subtle  force,  generated  by  the  utterance  of 
one's  own  thought,  not  found  in  the  words  of  others.  The 
thought  may  in  itself  not  be  so  striking,  but  it  has  such  special 
interest  for  you,  that  you  are  able  to  invest  it  with  peculiar 
interest  for  others.  You  remember  what  Touchstone  said 
about  his  wife:  "She  is  an  ill-favored  creature,  but  then  she's 
mine." 


"Flee  from  storms,"  reads  the  motto  of  Leonardo.  Leonardo 
was  one  of  the  world's  finished  artists.  He  also  had  the 
strength  of  a  Hercules.  He  could  paint  an  eyelash  or  bend 
a  massive  bar  of  iron.  He  was  the  combination  of  a  Richard 
and  a  Saladin.  But  in  the  echoes  of  that  motto,  he  shows  him- 
self a  manikin  and  not  a  man.  "Flee  from  storms?"  No! 
God  give  us  heroism  to  weather  out  all  storms  that  break  upon 
us  while  we  seek  to  know  and  to  do  his  will! 


The  ladders  that  God  lets  down  from  heaven  are  never 
escape  ladders,  up  which  old  sinners  may  climb,  and  so  get  free 
from  temptation.  They  are  but  gossamer  things,  up  and  down 
which  spiritual  messengers  may  glide,  now  and  then,  to  show 
that  communication  is  still  open  between  the  earth  and  the 
sky. 


We  often  run  through  the  Bible,  as  boys  do  through  an 
orchard,  autumn  days,  now  biting  out  the  sunny  side  of  a 
peach,  and  now  slicing  the  maiden's  blush  from  an  apple,  but 
never  going  down  either  to  the  pit  of  the  one,  or  the  core  of 
the  other.  To  reach  the  real  seed  truth  of  much  of  the  New 
Testament,  you  must  work  through  the  pulp,  or  in  case 


*Taken  from  President  Tanner's  unpublished  writings. 


402  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

there  seems  to  be  no  pulp,  it  is  well  to  remem- 
ber that  that  which  does  not  mellow  up  at  the  first  touch 
may  be  the  choicest.  "Late  fruit  keeps  best." 


There  is  plenty  of  nerveless  pity  in  the  world,  and  there  is 
plenty  of  harsh  determination.  But  there  is  very  little  mingled 
compassion  and  compulsion.  That  is  divine.  In  God  it  has 
most  marvelous  manifestation.  When  he  says;  "I  will  guide," 
it  means  a  love  that  can  not  hear  no,  that  must  have  its  own 
way,  because  that  way  is  the  absolutely  best. 


Many  sermons  are  like  wrought  nails,  pounded  out,  and  then 
pounded  in  most  faithfully.  But  forgetfulness  comes  along 
and  draws  them  with  a  single  jerk  of  the  claw-hammer.  Why? 
Because  they  are  not  clinched.  Figurative  language  has  not 
been  employed  to  make  fast  the  points. 


We  enter  into  no  conjecture  concerning  the  nature  of  the 
spiritual  form.  Many  have  labored  to  prove  that  we  shall 
carry  these  very  bodies  yonder,  but  science  shows  that  all  of  us 
of  mature  years  have  had  a  half  a  dozen  bodies,  each  composed 
of  different  particles  from  every  other.  How  could  we  recover 
one  of  the  first  five,  and  how  could  we  take  with  us  even  the 
sixth,  after  it  had  been  subjected  to  earth's  subtle  chemistry? 
There  is  no  great  profit  in  such  speculation.  Could  the  trans- 
fer be  made,  these  clay  tenements  would  hardly  be  worth  the 
transportation.  In  dealing  with  a  grand  truth  like  this,  why 
will  men  play  with  the  shell  and  forget  the  kernel?  So 
much  the  Christian  may  know,  that  he  shall  bear  the  image  of 
the  heavenly.  Such  is  the  teaching  of  the  Book.  The  individ- 
uality of  the  soul  must  continue  forever,  and  each  soul  must 
have  its  own  spiritual  body;  and  that  body  shall  be  freed  from 
all  the  grossness  that  afflicts  us  here;  and  the  lips  shall  know 
no  language  but  that  of  thanksgiving;  and  the  eyes,  which  are 
now  fountains  of  tears,  shall  be  brightened  by  bliss  unalloyed; 
and  no  lines  of  contraction  shall  be  seen  upon  the  open  brow 
of  God's  child.  O  ye  Christians,  unto  whom  the  image  of  the 
earthy  is  most  grievous  to-day,  be  patient,  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  we  shall  soon  rejoice  in  the  image  of  the  heavenly. — Hos- 
pital Lecture. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS  403 

Mirth  is  to  life  what  the  white  caps  are  to  the  ocean.  It  gives 
brightness  and  beauty.  Without  it,  human  existence  would  be 
but  one  succession  of  dead  ground  swells,  rising  and  falling  in 
heavy  monotony.  • 


A  man  who  is  conscious  of  great  mental  grasp  and  power,  is 
seldom  a  profane  man.  An  oath  is  interjectional  in  its  nature. 
Your  professor  of  rhetoric  will  tell  you  to  cut  out  your  "oh's" 
and  "ah's."  The  interjectional  style  is  always  a  forcible  feeble 
style.  When  the  intellectual  begins  to  distrust'itself,  it  catches 
convulsively  after  emotional  expression,  which  is  essentially 
interjectional.  Said  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  to  his  son:  "Henry, 
when  I  begin  to  holler,  you  may  know  that  I  have  run  out  of 
ideas."  The  general  principle  is  the  same.  A  resort  to  decla- 
mation, or  exclamation,  or  imprecation  is  a  virtual  cry  for  help. 
It  is  an  attempt  to  hide  a  weak  spot,  or  to  cover  a  retreat. — 
Chape!  Lecture. 


Beyond  this  brief  span  of  mortal  existence,  the  signature  of 
Dives  is  not  worth  one  drop  of  water.  It  is  the  Lazarus  who 
was  the  debtor  of  the  very  dogs  that  licked  his  sores,  whose 
name  is  paired  with  Abraham's,  shining  on  and  shining  on 
world  without  end. 


Yes,  go  where  you  will,  to  the  luxurious  apartment  where 
carnal  gratification  intoxicates  the  senses;  to  the  shrine  where 
culture  feeds  her  vestal  fire;  to  the  high  place  where  honor 
weaves  the  laurel  crown  for  the  favorite;  to  the  new  academy 
where  science  waits  to  hold  sweet  converse  with  her  votary — and 
you  hear  the  same  sad  cry  of  the  soul:  "Better  than  all  these 
are  the  windows  of  God's  love.  There  is  for  me  no  rest  till  I 
enter  there."  That  cry  is  the  prophecy  of  the  '•'•clouds"  that,  by  and 
by,  shall  be  seen  flying  thither.  But  do  not  wait  for  that  day, 
O  heart  of  the  broken  wing,  only  let  him  see,  here  and  now, 
some  weak,  painful  struggle  to  rise,  and  the  tender  hand  of  a 
compassionate  Christ  shall  lift  you  up  t'o  the  window  that  is 
open  for  you. — Hospital  Lecture. 


God  put  every  human  being  into  this  world  to  do  that  which 
will  pay  the  best.  If  you  have  squandered  all  the  chances  but 
one,  and  that  one  is  brought  within  your  reach,  as  a  sensible 


404  SERMONS   AND   ADDRESSES. 

man  lay  hold  upon  it,  and  make  the  most  of  it.  That  is  com- 
mon sense,  and  Bible  sense  too.  Said  some  one  sneeringly: 
''When  a  man  is  going  down  in  a  sea  of  trouble,  pitch  him  a 
religious  plank,  and  he  will  take  it."  Well,  why  shouldn't  he? 


However  it  may  be  in  married  life,  this  is  certain,  that  to  live 
happily  with  conscience  you  must  love,  serve,  and  obey 


Where  else  will  you  find  another  brotherhood  of  five  thou- 
sand men,  who  are  contributing  so  much  toward  the  best  intel- 
lectual development  of  the  western  continent,  as  the  five  thous- 
and men  in  the  faculties  of  our  American  colleges?  It  is  a  de- 
lightful privilege,  a  distinguished  honor,  to  speak  in  their  name 
in  this  presence  to-night.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  would  that  I 
could  give  you  some  fitting  conception  of  the  fine  enthusiasm 
with  which  these  instructors  have,  within  the  last  month,  wel- 
comed to  beloved  halls  of  learning  seventy-five  thousand  of  the 
choicest  youth  of  the  nation!  There  is  a  fascination  in  a  festal 
scene  like  this.  It  quickens  the  blood.  It  purifies  the  senses. 
It  exalts  the  intelligence.  There  steals  over  you  a  grateful 
complacency  that  you  are  counted  worthy  of  society  so  affluent, 
so  easy  in  manners,  so  cultivated  in  thought,  so  worldly  wise 
and  still  so  devoutly  minded.  Yet  how  little  can  one  do  for  the 
profit  of  such  a  company  of  self-poised  men  and  women.  But 
were  these  places  filled  by  lads  and  lasses  of  eighteen,  like 
those  who  have  just  left  some  of  your  homes  for  Monticello, 
Bradford,  Wellesley,  Beloit,  Amherst  and  Yale,  with  the  light 
of  morning-land  breaking  through  their  tears,  and  were  you 
conscious  that  through  study  and  ripe  experience  you  could 
lead  them  on  toward  the  realization  of  what  is  fairest  in  a  girl's 
dream  and  manliest  in  a  boy's  ambition,  would  not  the  sight 
move  you  more  profoundly  than  even  that  of  this  brilliant  as- 
sembly?— Jrom  an  address  at  a  reception  to  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs. 


I  used,  now  and  then,  to  go  through  an  Indian  graveyard  out 
west.  There  were  all  sorts  of  crockery,  tin,  and  iron  dishes  and 
kettles  hung  up  for  the  use  of  those  who  had  gone  to  the  "happy 
hunting  grounds,"  but  every  article  had  a  hole  punched  through 
it  so  that  it  was  not  worth  anything  for  this  world.  Now  that 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  405 

is  just  like  the  spiritual  insurance  of  many  pale-faces.  That  is 
their  idea  of  laying  up  treasure  in  heaven.  According  to  their 
notion,  the  worse  things  are  spoiled  for  time,  the  surer  posses- 
sions they  make  for  eternity. 


Whence  fell  that  paralysis  of  terror  upon  that  hardened  rep- 
robate, Legree  in  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin?  A  knot  hole  in  an  old 
garret,— the  neck  of  a  bottle  and  a  gust  of  wind?  No,  it  was  the 
eye  of  the  Omniscient  revealing  the  secrets  of  a  sin-blackened 
soul.  My  impenitent  friend,  can  you  bear  to  have  that  eye 
fixed  upon  yon,  looking  you  through  and  through  for  eternity? 
Is  there  in  that  no  hell? 


I  saw  in  a  public  assembly,  the  other  evening,  a  man  wear- 
ing a  suit,  the  whole  warp  and  woof  of  which  said— flour,  bran, 
shorts.  The  individual  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  human  chame- 
leon, taking  the  hues  of  his  surroundings.  It  was  really  re- 
freshing to  look  upon  one  who  so  believed  in  his  business,  that 
it  showed  in  his  very  clothes. 


"Come,"  "come,"  "come," — the  New  Year  repeats  the  word. 
T'is  the  burden  of  this  week  of  prayer.  The  air  is  heavy  with 
the  invitation.  It  floats  down  to  us  from  our  father's  home. 
vEolian  chords,  swept  by  the  spirit  of  God,  vibrate:  "Come, 
come,  come."  The  Savior  speaks  from  his  table  of  love,  while 
the  hovering  spirits  of  the  glorified,  catching  his  accents,  are 
whispering:  ''Come,  come,  come." — Communion  Sermon. 


If  you  could  penetrate  the  heart  secrets  of  mankind,  you 
would  see  that  only  a  few  of  the  dreams  are  fulfilled.  Every- 
one carries  his  own  Aladdin's  lamp,  and  keeps  up  a  private 
peep  show,  into  which  others  are  not  permitted  to  look.  How 
everyone's  face  would  burn  with  confusion,  if  there  were  pub- 
licly displayed,  here,  all  the  wild  possibilities  which  ever  had 
place  in  his  thoughts.  The  miscarriage  of  these  has  been  his 
prevailing  experience,  but  he  would  not  have  the  world  even 
suspect  what  castles  he  has  been  building  in  the  air,  only  to  see 
them  topple  and  fall  in  steady  succession.  He  puts  upon  the 
secret  a  dead-lock,  which  nobody  can  pick.  The  farmer  boy 
seems  to  be  plowing  for  corn,  and  he  raises  corn;  but  he  drops 


406  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

into  these  furrows,  on  the  sly,  other  seeds  of  the  strangest  va- 
rieties, which  never  sprout  and  flower  and  fruit.  Nobody  be- 
sides himself  and  his  Creator  will  ever  know  of  that  secret 
planting  and  failure. 


Wed  a  pure  life  to  sweet  courtesy.     Each  is  intended  for  the 
other. 


Any  young  man  that  has  the  social  and  intellectual  gifts  to 
make  a  successful  lawyer,  may,  through  the  grace  of  God,  be- 
come a  successful  minister.  The  alternative  is  put  thus:  "Have 
I  got  to  study  theology?"  "Can  I  not  study  law?"  This  is 
simply  the  throwing  of  dice  loaded  infavorofBlackstone. — 
Chapel  lecture. 


You  have  known  grateful  relief  in  moments  of  dire  perplexity, 
when  the  hand  of  some  man  or  woman,  calm  and  strong,  has 
been  laid  gently,  lovingly  upon  your  head.  But  what  was 
that  compared  with  the  soothing  touch  of  this  Prince  of  Peace? 
For  the  wounded  heart  there  is  nothing  so  healing  as  the 
wounded  hand. 


God  never  suffers  anything  to  run  to  waste.  You  remember 
how  the  Master,  after  miraculously  feeding  the  thousands, 
bade  his  disciples  pick  up  every  scrap  that  was  left.  If  he 
showed  such  rigid  economy  respecting  a  little  bread  and  meat, 
is  he  going  to  let  escape  and  come  to  naught  the  prayers  of 
his  people,  the  sweetest  incense  that  goes  up  from  earth  to 
heaven? 


It  is  one  of  the  hardest  tasks  in  the  world  for  a  man  of  quick 
spiritual  insight,  who  at  a  glance  penetrates  to  the  heart  of  a 
truth,  to  make  allowance  for  his  dogmatic  brother,  who  is  for- 
ever pounding  away  at  the  shell  of  that  truth,  and  yet  never 
cracks  it.  But  that  dogmatic  brother  is  entitled  to  no  little  con- 
sideration for  his  perseverance,  for  his  being  willing  to  work 
so  hard  for  pay  so  poor.  Take  Martin  Luther.  He  vexes  you 
with  his  gross,  material  view  of  the  Lord's  Table.  There  he 
stands.  His  opponent  plies  him  with  argument.  Luther 
points  as  rigidly  as  a  guide-board  to  the  bread,  and  only 
says:  "Hoc  est  meum  corpus"— this  is  my  body.  His  op- 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  407 

ponent  continues  the  plea.  Replies  Luther:  "Hoc  est  meum 
corpus."  Another  shape  is  given  to  the  argument.  Yet  noth- 
ing can  be  \\  rung  from  Luther  except  "Hoc  est  meum  corpus." 
For  reasoning,  ridicule,  entreaty,  the  stubborn  monk  has  only 
that  response:  "Hoc  est  meum  corpus."  Till,  finally,  in  admi- 
ration for  his  very  obstinacy,  you  exclaim: — "Well,  stick  to  it, 
Martin  !  If  the  Lord  loved  even  the  disciple  who  denied 
him,  he  cannot  help  loving  one  who  fights  so  fiercely  to  defend 
what  he  considers  the  broken  body  of  his  Master  !" 


If  you  should  point  to  the  golden  moments  of  your  life,  you 
would  point  to  those  which  were  ticked  out  so  wearily  in  the 
night  watches  beside  the  bedside  of  suffering.  I  have  read, 
somewhere,  that  there  are  plants  which  grow  in  the  night  and 
rest  in  the  light.  Some  of  the  sweetest  developments  of 
Christian  character  are  possible  only  in  the  hush  of  a  darkened 
room. 


Witness  the  joy  of  the  horse-tamer,  as  he  reins  some  fiery 
steed  down  the  track.  What  must  be  the  joy  of  Him  who 
drives  the  chariots  of  unnumbered  suns  on  their  courses  through 
space,  without  catastrophe! 


It  is  impossible  to  embody  the  thoughts  of  Jesus  in  the 
language  of  Cicero  and  the  language  of  Demosthenes.  I  re- 
member very  well  my  astonishment,  the  first  time  that  I  ever 
tried  to  put  the  sentiment  of  the  eleventh  commandment  and 
of  the  golden  rule  into  classical  Latin.  That  language  in  its 
golden  age  had  no  words  for  such  ideas;  such  ideas  were  not 
native  to  the  Seven  Hills. 


One  night,  fifteen  years  ago,  I  was  riding  on  horse-back  from 
Waverly  to  Jacksonville.  I  had  written,  to  that  time,  about  as 
many  sermons  as  has  the  candidate.  The  traditional  barrel 
was  unnecessary.  1  could  have  put  all  the  precious  documents 
into  a  peck  measure,  and  then  have  had  plenty  of  room  to  rent. 
I  was  disheartened.  I  had  pretty  much  concluded  that,  when 
the  Lord  called  somebody  else,  I  answered;  that  I'd  ask  for- 
giveness for  the  blunder,  and  quit  the  pulpit  forever.  How  dark 
it  was!  How  far  away  the  stars!  About  ten  o'clock,  I  overtook 


408  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  man  driving  home  eighteen  or  twenty  mules.  Having  never 
been  any  more  successful  in  the  mule  business,  than  in  the  ser- 
mon business,  I  was  whipping  by,  when  he  called  out:  "What's 
your  hurry?  Help  me  a  bit,  and  this  will  be  a  good  time  for  me  to 
tell  you  that  I  want  you  to  stick  to  preaching;  you'll  learn,  by 
and  by.  Why,  there  was  one  passage  in  your  sermon  last  Sun- 
day that  would  have  done  credit  to  Professor  Post;" — bless  the 
mules!  What  a  transfiguration!  I  could  have  believed  that 
Elijah  had  a  pair  for  leaders,  on  that  memorable  aerial  drive; 
and  it  seemed  no  longer  strange  that  the  Lord  of  glory  himself, 
rode  as  he  did  into  the  holy  city,  while  the  multitude  shouted: 
"  Hosanna  in  the  Highest!"  May  your  pastor  fall  in,  here- 
abouts, every  now  and  then,  with  some  such  mule-driver. — 
From  a  charge  to  a  church  at  an  installation. 


It  is  a  common  misfortune  for  two  public  men,  amid  the 
competitions  of  the  world,  to  become  enstranged,  in  following 
what  both  conscientiously  believe  to  be  the  course  of  duty  and 
of  wisdo  m.  Often,  both  thus  suffer  grievously  through  life.  From 
conflicting  interests  and  peculiarities  of  temperament,  harmo- 
ny is  impossible.  The  matters  at  issue  in  such  a  case  must  be 
left  to  the  bar  of  God  for  settlement.  In  the  flooding  light  of 
eternity,  it  will  be  seen  that  both  were  true  in  their  convic- 
tions, and  they  will  clasp  hands  again,  with  the  exclamation, 
'' Why  could  not  this  revelation  have  come  before?"  How 
much  more  delightful  is  the  experience,  when  we  learn  to  see 
eye  to  eye,  once  more,  here  below,  and  the  old  love  comes 
back  again  ! — At  the  funeral  of  Professor  R.  C.  Crampton. 


A  small  college  like  Middlebury  is  better  than  any  other  to 
bring  out  the  originality  and  independence  of  a  young  man- 
Dr.  Post  felt  and  asserted  this,  both  in  private  and  in  public. 
Bear  this  in  mind,  any  of  you  who  in  your  ambition  are  some- 
times tempted  to  think  that,  if  you  were  only  in  a  great  institu- 
tion, your  surroundings  would  lift  you  into  prominence  and 
power.  Remember  that  involution  is  the  measure  of  evolu- 
lution.  If  it  is  only  in  you,  Illinois  will  be  your  Middlebury. 
There  is  ample  sweep  here  for  the  full  length  of  your  radius, 
till  graduation.  Again,  Dr.  Post  was  never  heard  bewailing 
the  fact  that  his  genius  had  no  scope  within  the  narrow  walls 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 


409 


of  a  small,  fresh-water  college.  He  did  not  spend  his  time  in 
craning  his  neck  to  find  a  place  in  some  famous  university. 
But,  by  faithfully  and  patiently  discharging  his  ordinary  daily 
duties,  he  grew  so  large  that  the  outside  world  could  not  help 
recognizing  his  worth;  and  thus  more  lucrative  positions  were, 
without  his  solicitation,  urged  upon  him  for  acceptance.  The 
world  is  always  on  the  watch  to  bid  such  men:  "Come  up 
higher." — From  an  address  on  the  life  of  Dr.  T.  M.  Post. 

The  voice  of  the  prophet  is  hushed.  The  face  no  longer 
shines  with  the  reflection  of  Jehovah's  countenance.  But  men 
do  sometimes  walk  close  enough  to  the  deity,  to  divine  his 
thought,  to  speak  with  an  assurance  which  is  the  emanation 
of  his  presence,  and  to  diffuse  a  restfulness  which  issues  from 
the  peace  of  God. —  Upon  the  death  of  Dr.  C.  L.  Goodell. 


There  is  at  Hannibal,  Mo.,  overlooking  the  Mississippi,  a 
high  precipitous  bluff,  called"  Lover's  Leap."  It  matters  not 
concerning  the  old  tradition  connected  with  the  name.  I  re- 
member climbing  to  the  summit  with  a  friend,  one  sultry  Au- 
gust afternoon,  five  or  six  years  ago.  My  companion  showed 
me  where,  in  the  war  times,  men  had  dug  rifle  pits  and  thrown 
embankments,  to  protect  the  city  below  from  the  raids  of 
guerrillas.  He  talked  about  the  latent  heroism  called  out  by 
the  struggle,  and  then  we  tried  to  realize  how  we  should  have 
felt  lying  on  the  spot,  waiting  for  the  charge  of  some  butternut 
brigade.  We  concluded  that  we  might  have  shown  some  val- 
or; especially,  as  the  only  chance  to  run  away  would  have 
been  to  begin  the  retreat,  by  a  leap  of  some  hundreds  of  feet 
down  the  cliff.  Last  February,  I  went  up  there  again,  alone. 
That  friend  was  living  still;  but  he  did  not  climb  hills  any 
more.  And  then  that  summer  afternoon  came  back  again  and 
that  half  serious,  half  sportive  talk  on  heroism,  and  then  the 
thought  of  him,  as  he  had  been  lying  nine  weary  months,  the 
prey  of  wasting  disease;  and  I  said:  "Brave  heart,  heroism 
is  no  longer  talk  with  you,  it  is  a  terrible  but  grand  reality. 
You  were  not  sure  how  you'd  have  borne  the  crack  of  rifles  and 
the  whistle  of  bullets;  but  what  is  such  courage  compared 
with  the  unflinching  fortitude  with  which  in  the  sick  room 
summer,  and  autumn,  and  winter  long,  you  have  been  watch- 


41 0  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

ing  the  insidious  approach  of  your  foe?  What  is  it  that  checks 
every  murmur,  that  stills  all  alarm,  that  enables  the  tried  soul, 
to  say:  '  Thy  will  be  done.'  "  And  the  sun  flooded  the  city, 
and  there  was  a  dazzling  brightness  upon  the  face  of  the  ice- 
bound riyer,  and  in  the  silence  on  the  hill  came  the  answer, 
"  The  love  of  God." 


As  a  rule,  he  that  would  be  admired  in  coming  ages,  must 
be  content  to  forego  present  applause,  must  grapple  with 
themes  too  complicated  to  secure  the  sympathy  of  his  own 
day,  must  have  faith  to  see  an  audience  in  the  distant  future, 
when  mankind  shall  have  plodded  slowly  on,  and  have  come 
up  to  his  advanced  ideas. 


The  ash-heap  of  Job  has  risen  till  it  has  become  the  highest 
Helicon  of  holy  song. 

Our  hope  is  in  the  Church  of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus 
Christ.  That  hope  may  seem  to  be  a  forlorn  one,  but  it  is  the 
only  one  we  have.  Our  dependence  is  on  that  same  old  crew, 
that  has  weathered  out  so  many  storms.  Only  its  members 
know  how  to  handle  rigging  and  rudder.  And  even  if  they 
have  to  run  the  vessel  aground  by  and  by,  they'll  pick  out  the 
best  place  to  beach  her,  so  that,  at  least,  on  planks  and  spars 
and  broken  pieces  of  the  ship,  we  may,  like  St.  Luke  and  St. 
Paul,  and  the  rest,  get  safe  to  shore. 


If,  sometimes,  when  I  think  of  heaven,  the  image  of  the 
Son  of  God  recedes,  and  in  the  foreground  appear  the  forms 
of  those  whom  I  have  loved  and  lost  on.  earth,  is  that  an 
offense  to  my  Heavenly  Father? 


Once  let  the  power  of  the  Highest  over-shadow  a  soul, 
and  make  itself  felt  in  that  soul's  regeneration,  and  that  soul's 
salvation  is  secure.  There  is  joy  in  heaven  whenever  a  sinner 
turns  unto  God,  and  straightway  the  recording  angel  writes  the 
new  name  in  the  Book  of  Life.  Are,  then,  those  holy  choirs 
sometimes  deceived?  Do  they  sing,  now  and  then,  a  prema- 
ture song?  Does  the  scribe  make  false  entries  and  blot  them 
out  again?  Is  that  blessed  catalogue  blurred  with  blunders, 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  41 1 

here  and  there?  Nay  that  is  a  joy  forever.  That  song  shall 
never  turn  to  a  dirge  for  a  lost  soul.  The  entry,  "born  again," 
means  God's  blessed  child  for  evermore.  Therefore,  if  the  way- 
ward youth  once  gave  good  evidence  of  genuine  conversion, 
deal  with  him  patiently  and  hopefully.  His  Heavenly  Father 
understands  him  best.  There  is  a  presence  from  which  the 
head-strong  boy  will  not  escape.  No  matter  how  far  away 
he  may  stray,  he  will  be  followed  by  that  constant,  "  come 
back."  He  may  grow  reckless  and  even  profane.  But  hell 
and  damnation  will  be  the  substance  of  that  profanity.  The 
words  accord  with  his  abandoned  mood.  He  will  not  very 
often  take  the  name  of  God  and  Christ  in  vain.  Why?  He 
shrinks  from  that.  There  is  one  poor  little  remnant  of  that 
old  first  love,  which  shall  at  last  be  restored,  and  bring  the 
prodigal  to  himself  and  to  heaven.  Keep  this  Bible  open  be- 
fore him,  let  your  own  life  exemplify  its  teachings,  and  leave 
the  rest  with  God. — Chapel  Lecture.  \ 


Did  you  ever  try  to  use  a  plow  with  only  one  rusty  spot  the 
size  of  a  dollar  in  the  middle  of  the  share?  You  remember 
how  the  dirt  would  stick  there  and  stop  you,  no  matter  how 
highly  polished  the  rest  of  the  surface.  Possibly,  there  is  in 
your  character  one  such  rust  spot,  and  it  has  this  peculiarity, 
that  it  is  just  the  size  of  that  "  almighty  dollar." 


One  generation  must  perish  by  the  way.  The  first  great 
leader  must  be  content  with  a  distant  view  of  the  better  land 
from  Nebo's  summit,  and  then  lie  down  in  the  grave  in  the  val- 
ley of  Moab. 

The  voice  of  lamentation  is  never  heard  on  the  streets  of 
the  New  Jerusalem.  No  hearse  is  seen  there.  No  dirge  wails  out 
upon  the  air.  Every  other  city  has  its  cemetery,  its  silent  city 
outside  the  walls.  But  the  weeping  willow  will  not  grow 
in  that  soil,  there  is  not  a  tomb-stone,  the  sexton's  spade 
troubles  not  the  clods  of  the  valley.  For  nobody  can  die  there. 
It  is  beyond  the  resurrection.  All  is  life-everlasting.  And 
Jerusalem  is  above  sickness  and  suffering.  Institutions  of 
charity  and  mercy  are  the  glory  of  cities  here  below.  They 
speak  of  a  philanthropy  akin  to  Christ's,  but  love  for  one  an- 


_j.I2  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

other  seeks  different  channels  yonder.  No  institutions  for 
deaf  and  dumb  and  blind  rise  to  view.  Every  ear  is  unstopped. 
The  glory  of  God  is  read  by  every  eye.  They  build  no  ho^pi- 
tals  there,  for  every  wanderer  has  come  to  himself,  to  sit  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus,  and  rest  the  head  upon  his  hand.  Jesus  alone  is 
free  from  fret,  and  worry,  and  weariness.  All  is  tranquil,  qui- 
et, restful.  It  is  just  the  home  for  you,  my  friend. —  Hospital 
Lecture. 


This  is  not  a  world  of  fallen  angels.  It  is  world  of  fallen 
human  beings.  God  wants  them,  with  a  yearning  inexpressi- 
ble. He  wants  you.  He  calls  to  you  now.  For  how  long 
still  shall  thy  journey  from  Him  be?  When,  when,  wilt  thou 
return? 


Always  head  up  stream  like  a  packet.  Then  conscience  can 
hold  you  steady,  wherever  you  make  a  landing.  Otherwise,  the 
current  may  work  you  off  and  away,  with  the  loss  of  gang-plank 
and  whatever  is  on  it. 


Did  you  ever  drill  in  the  war  days?  You  remember  the  old 
words,  "Mark  time,  march!"  Wasn't  it  tiresome  !  But  wasn't 
it  necessary?  What  order  could  there  have  been  without  it?  It 
was  a  great  dampener  to  your  volunteer  enthusiasm,  to  be  ob- 
liged to  lift  your  feet  and  put  them  down,  in  the  same  place, 
hour  after  hour.  You  had  just  enlisted  as  a  hero,  with  mother 
and  sweet-heart  looking  on  in  tearful  admiration,  and  then  to 
be  forced  into  line,  and  go  to  "marking  time."  But  that  learn- 
ing to  keep  step  was  really  your  first  step  to  victory.  There 
could  be  no  "forward,"  until  there  had  been  "mark  time."  Then 
do  not  be  impatient,  when  God  commands  "mark  time."  He  is 
getting  you  ready  to  move  on,  as  soon  as  the  appointed  hour 
arrives. 


Congregationalism  is  not  a  cave  of  Adullam,  filled  with  all 
the  malcontents  of  Israel.  She  tolerates  vagaries  on  the  non- 
essentials  of  the  Gospel,  but  when  a  man  refuses  to  listen  rev- 
erently to  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  Son  of  God  and  the 
Savior  of  the  world,  when  he  substitutes  for  those  words  his 
own  speculations,  however  specious  and  captivating,  she  bids 
him  seek  fellowship  in  some  other  communion.  Recall  such 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 

individuals  and  churches  as  have  become  heretical,  within  your 
personal  acquaintance,  and  you  will  bear  witness  that  those  in- 
dividuals and  churches  began  to  go  astray  by  indulging  in 
speculations  and  hypotheses  which  they  refused  to  test  by  the 
word  of  God.  Fondness  for  their  own  theories  and  contempt 
for  written  revelation  grew  in  the  same  proportion  till,  at  last, 
having  lost  all  sympathy  with  the  historic  doctrines  of  our 
polity,  the  offenders  withdrew,  or  were  refused  the  fellowship  of 
the  denomination.  This  process  takes  time,  but  the  result  is 
inevitable.  The  polity  has  in  its  constitution  a  very  happy 
faculty  of  working  out  and  sloughing  off  elements  essentially 
unsound.  This  does  not,  however,  hinder  progressive  thought 
respecting  Christian  doctrine.  I  am  aware  that  Dr.  Dexter  and 
some  others  have  maintained  that  the  much-quoted  utterance 
of  John  Robinson  concerning  further  light  to  break,  from  Holy 
Writ,  refers  to  questions  of  polity,  and  not  to  quesiions  of 
religious  belief;  but,  with  due  deference  to  such  high  authority, 
I  cannot  so  interpret  the  declaration.  It  was  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  most  illustrious  figure  in  the  annals  of  Congrega- 
tionalism, that  he  foresaw  the  ever-increasing  suggestiveness  of 
the  words  of  Jesus,  from  age  to  age.  The  only  restriction  which 
he  would  have  placed  upon  any  new  hypothesis,  any  strange 
speculation,  would  have  been  that  it  must  be  abandoned,  unless 
in  perfect  accord  with  the  manifest  trerid  of  New  Testament 
doctrine. — From  an  address  before  the  State  Congregational 
Association. 


There  are  those  that  aim  so  high  that  they  fire  into  vacant 
space,  and  hit  it. 


But,  says  some  one,  why  do  you  not  preach  salvation?  Why 
do  you  talk  about  gluttony  and  dram-drinking  and  opium- 
eating  and  wrath  and  revenge  and  moral  suicide?  I  answer, 
what  do  you  mean  by  salvation?  Is  not  your  notion  of  the  sig- 
nification of  that  word  somewhat  foggy  ?  Salvation  is  not  sim- 
ply going  to  a  place  called  heaven.  It  is  deliverance  from 
every-day  sin,  here  and  now. 


Truth  encircles  herself  with  womanly  reserve,  but  error  keeps 
no  body  guard. 


414  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

The  horizon  of  Christianity  always  stretches  away  and  away 
beyond  civilization.  A  little  boy  came  running  up  to  me,  one 
morning,  face  all  aglow,  and  hands  full  of  flowers  which  he 
said  he  got  away  out  there  where  the  sky  is.  So  the  children  of 
this  world  will  often  hold  up  before  you  beautiful  things,  they 
declare  they've  brought  from  the  very  outer  verge  of  the  Old 
Revelation.  And  they  seem  so  exultant  over  it,  that  you  have 
not  the  heart  to  dispel  the  illusion,  any  more  than  I  had  to  spoil 
the  pretty  fancy  of  that  child,  though  I  knew  his  feet  had 
trudged  out  but  a  very  little  way  toward  the  rim  of  the  firma- 
ment. 


After  much  casting  about  for  some  type  which  would  present 
to  my  own  mind  most  simply  and  readily,  the  outline  of  this 
wonderful  yet  perfectly  harmonious  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  I 
find  myself  turning  oftenest  to  this  humble  comparison.  Take 
a  tree  in  summer  time.  If  you  are  tempted  at  the  outset  to 
say  that  anything  so  common-place  degrades  the  subject,  re- 
member how  our  Master  stooped  lower  still,  when  he  said:  "I 
am  the  vine  and  ye  are  the  branches."  Take,  then,  the  tree  in 
summer  time.  There  is  the  root,  there  is  the  body,  and  there 
is  the  foliage.  Each  lives.  Each  differs  from  the  other  two. 
Each  is  essential.  As  a  vital  organism,  the  tree  is  sensitive 
through  root,  and  body,  and  foliage.  Abuse  any  one,  and  the 
other  two  suffer.  There  are  the  three,  and  yet  the  tree  is  one. 
The  root,  the  body,  the  foliage.  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  the 
invisible,  the  tangible,  and,  as  it  were,  the  whispering  of  the 
leaves! 


If  you  would  test  the  depth  and  purity  of  a  man's  religious 
life,  notice  how  he  talks  about  other  people,  but  especially 
about  those  in  his  own  calling.  And,  if  you  would  get  the  key 
to  a  woman's  character,  it  is  not  probable  that  you  will  find  it 
at  a  prayer-meeting  or  at  church.  She  will  be  much  more 
likely  to  let  it  drop  when  conversing  off  her  guard  in  society, 
respecting  such  sisters  as  move  in  her  circle,  or  in  the  one  that 
she  wants  to  enter.  Just  notice  whether  in  speaking  of  them, 
she  is  hearty  in  her  praise;  or  whether  her  talk  is  full  of  'yets," 
and  "buts,"  and  "ifs,"  and  ominous  pauses,  and  significant  ges- 
tures,— I  see  by  your  faces  you  know  what  I  mean. 


.      SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  415 

A  young  man  always  believes  in  driving  things.  He  likes  to 
crack  his  whip.  This  is  true  in  the  clerical  profession  as  well 
as  in  any  other.  If  you  turn  over  a  minister's  barrel  of  sermons, 
you  find  the  harshest  utterances  at  the  bottom.  The  latest  dis- 
courses are  the  mellowest. 


How  some  of  our  calculations  must  sound  to  God  and  the 
angels!  We  say  of  this  man  that  no  one  can  tell  how  much  he 
is  worth,  the  figures  are  up  in  the  millions;  but,  by  and  by,  an 
administrator  is  appointed,  and  he  goes  through  the  estate,  and 
gives  you  the  result  in  dollars  and  cents,— there  it  is — but  yon- 
der on  the  brink  of  eternity  is  a  starving,  shivering  soul,  bank- 
rupt forever. 


It  cannot  be  denied,  that  there  are  rugged  hills  which  mean 
hard  climbing,  but  then  there  are  easy  declivities  and  smiling 
valleys  upon  the  other  side,  just  the  country  to  call  down  the 
early  and  the  latter  rains,  and  to  set  them  flowing  everywhere 
in  streams  of  refreshment.  You  have  come  to  a  place,  where 
you  may  get  a  farther  reach  of  vision,  to  strengthen  you  for  the 
struggle.  Catch  a  glimpse  of  what  lies  yonder.  At  the  North 
of  Africa,  Spain  proudly  wrote  on  the  Pillars  of  Hercules:  "Ne 
Plus  Ultra" — nothing  beyond;  but  hardy  navigators,  with  sub- 
lime faith  in  a  better  country  toward  the  setting  sun,  went  sail- 
ing out  into  the  west  singing,  as  they  sped  through  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar,  "Plus  Ultra' — -more  beyond.  That  is  the  senti- 
ment which  you  want  to  take  with  you  into  the  discouragements 
of  this  first  week  of  study,  amid  these  new  scenes.  Let  the 
mountain  frown  as  it  may,  the  valley  will  but  smile  the  more 
invitingly  from  the  summit.  This  is  a  rolling  country.  It  is 
not  all  steeps,  not  all  dead  levels.  The  prospect  which  opens 
before  the  student,  varies  day  by  day.  These  ways  of  wisdom, 
sometimes  toilsome,  are,  nevertheless,  ways  of  pleasantness. — 
Chapel  Lecture. 


You  remember  the  exciting  race  of  the  steamboats,  Natchez 
and  Robert  Lee,  from  New  Orleans  to  St.  Louis.  On  the  morn- 
ing when  the  victorious  boat  came  in,  I  went  down  to  the  land- 
ing with  a  southern  friend.  A  hundred  thousand  people  lined 
the  levee.  As  the  magnificent  packet  swept  proudly  up  stream 
and  swung  round  toward  the  shore,  shout  after  shout  arose 


41 6  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

from  that  great  throng.  My  friend,  catching  the  enthusiasm, 
turned  upon  me,  saying:  "How  now  about  that  old  tub  of  a  sail 
boat,  the  Mayflower?  Hadn't  they  better  lift  her  anchor,  cut 
her  from  her  moorings  at  Plymouth  Rock  and  let  her  drift  out 
into  forgetfulness?"  The  Mayflower  "drift  out  into  forgetful- 
ness!"  That  scene  upon  river  and  levee  had  a  certain  dash  and 
brilliancy;  but  it  lacked  breadth,  and  depth  of  historic  perspec- 
tive. Already,  it  begins  to  fade  from  recollection.  The  May- 
flower "drift  out  into  forgetfulness!"  No!  No!  From  genera- 
tion to  generation,  New  England's  sturdy  sons  bring  fresh  live 
oak  for  her  keel;  and  New  England's  fair  daughters  make  over 
her  white  wings;  and  the  genius  of  the  republic  adds  star  after 
star  to  the  flag  at  her  mast-head;  and  up  from  the  Gulf,  and 
down  from  the  lakes  of  the  North,  and  across  the  mountains 
from  the  far-away  Peaceful  Sea,  loyal  hearts  respond:  "We 
cannot  forget  what  the  whole  Union  owes  to  the  principles  of 
1620."  Let  the  Mayflower  ride  the  breaking  waves  of  the  na- 
tion's thought,  from  age  to  age.  Amen! — From  an  address  on 
Fore-fathers'  Day. 


When  we  reflect  upon  the  part  which  children  who  die  in  in- 
fancy have  in  training  sweet  affections,  and  then  remember 
how,  in  vanishing  from  the  family,  they  leave  those  bruised 
affections  clinging  to  the  Rock  of  Ages,  to  grow  there  in  beauty 
and  strength  forever,  we  discern  the  Creator's  beneficent 
design  in  the  giving  and  the  ending  of  such  brief  lives,  and  in- 
stead of  calling  them  blighted,  pronounce  them  "finished'' 


The  Christian  sometimes  mistakes  disease  for  depravity. 
There  was  the  poet  Cowper,  one  of  the  purest,  sweetest  souls, 
that  ever  sang  out  sad  song  on  earth,  one  whose  hymns  are  a 
perennial  fountain  of  blessing  to  humanity,  one  who  to-day 
strikes  the  lyre  with  David  yonder.  Yet  he  was  so  pi  e\  ed 
upon  by  this  sense  of  unworthiness,  that  only  now  and  then  did 
he  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  light  beyond  the  cloud.  Bodily  dis- 
ease had  so  dimmed  his  vision,  that  he  wrote  of  himself  as  one 
'who,  tempest  tossed  and  wrecked,  at  last,  comes  home  to  port 
no  more."  But,  says  his  nephew:  "there  was  a  look  of  holy 
surprise  on  his  features  after  his  eyes  were  closed,  as  if  there 
were  very  bright  visions  for  him  behind  the  veil  that  was  im- 
penetrable to  him  here." 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 

The  average  American  claims  the  right  to  go  to  Washing- 
ton, and  shake  hands  with  the  President  in  the  most  familiar, 
"you-and-I,"  fellow-citizen  fashion.  But  etiquette  at  the  White 
House  and  etiquette  at  the  White  Throne  are  two  very  differ- 
ent things.  The  average  American  takes  with  him  into  his 
religion  his  ideas  of  democratic  equality.  He  fails  to  appreci- 
ate the  height  of  the  throne  above  the  footstool.  He  talks  as 
if  the  two  were  upon  a  level.  The  old-time  awe  has  dis- 
appeared from  addresses  to  the  Creator. 


Some  of  you  have  read  the  ^Eneid.  You  reollect  the  ac- 
count of  the  storm  on  the  Tuscan  Sea.  You  remember  how 
the  tempest-tossed  hero  was  borne  to  a  foreign  shore.  As  he 
wanders  there,  with  heavy  heart  and  gloomy  forebodings,  his 
own  divine  mother  comes  down  from  the  skies,  to  comfort  and 
guide  her  desponding  son.  But  she  comes  in  disguise.  The 
man  knows  not  her 'that  gave  him  birth;  still  he  listens  to  her 
words,  he  grows  less  despairing,  he  insensibly  follows  her  di- 
rection. Thus  they  talk  on,  they  walk  on,  until  the  tower  of 
Carthage  breaks  upon  the  view.  Then,  just  in  sight  of  the 
city  of  rest,  the  cloud  that  veiled  divinity  is  parted,  the  god- 
dess is  revealed,  the  son  cries  in  wonder:  "My  mother!"  "My 
mother!"  So  it  is  with  some  that  are  born  of  the.  Spirit. 
They  are  led  by  One  that  they  know  not.  There  may  be,  now 
and  then,  the  shadowy  consciousness  of  a  heavenly  presence, 
still  there  is  no  recognition.  Finally,  just  in  sight  of  that 
other  City  of  Rest,  there  is  a  change,  there  is  a  rustle  of  wings, 
and  the  dove  that  hovered  above  the  Son  of  God  at  the  bap- 
tism, flies  on  before  to  its  home. 


A  college  that  calls  itself  Christian  is  not  properly  equipped 
that  has  not,  side  by  side  with  its  literary  societies,  as  dis- 
tinctly recognized  and  respected  by  faculty  and  students,  a 
society  for  training  its  youth  in  religious  thought,  expression 
and  activity. — "Chapel Lecture. 


It  is  wholesome  for  every  man  to  be  dragged  sometimes  to 
the  brink  of  the  bottomless  pit,  and  be  compelled  to  look 
down  into  it,  and  to  hold  his  breath,  and  to  think  for  a  moment 
of  the  possibility  that  even  he  may  plunge  into  that  abyss. 


41 8  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Physicians  very  generally  condemn  the  use  of  tobacco. 
The  exceptions  which  they  make  are  in  case  of  advancing 
years  or  of  a  superabundance  of  flesh.  If  there  be  among  us 
an  old  man,  whose  medical  adviser  says  that  he  is  in  need  of 
such  solace,  or  a  fat  boy  whose  medical  adviser  says  that  he 
needs  such  shrinkage,  by  all  means  let  the  man  or  boy  have  the 
prescription. — Chapel  Lecture. 


I  went,  the  other  day,  to  a  place  which  I  have  not  visited  for 
many  years.  It  was  the  place  that  I  used  to  repair  to  as  a  stu- 
dent, when  the  lessons  were  hardest,  and  ideas  for  essays 
were  scarcest.  The  past  all  came  back  most  vividly.  I  was  a 
Sophomore  again,  in  one  of  those  intervals  when  omniscience 
does  not  appear  to  be  his  forte.  He  has  not  a  few  such  inter- 
vals, and  they  are  dismal  enough.  At  such  a  time,  the  Sopho- 
more is  one  of  the  the  most  pitiable  objects  in  nature.  He  may 
not  then  admit  it,  but  bring  an  old  graduate  to  the  confes- 
sional, and  he  will  acknowledge  to  you,  that  he  has  no  de- 
sire to  go  back  to  the  fears,  misgivings,  and  struggles  of  that 
year,  when  the  student  is  supposed  to  be  free  from  even  the 
shadow  of  a  suspicion  that  he  is  not  competent  to  fill  any  po- 
sition within  the  gift  of  the  American  people.  I  came  from 
that  spot,  with  all  its  crowding  recollections,  carrying  a  heart 
mellower  than  ever  toward  the  Sophomore. — Chapel  Lecture. 


Only  husband  and  wife  have  free  access  to  the  heart.  The 
sharing  of  that  from  which  every  other  human  being  is  de- 
barred, is  the  wine  of  'ife.  This  is  the  nearest  approach  to  the 
meaning  of  the  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  Yet,  within  this 
inner  privacy  of  the  married  relation,  there  is  a  holy  of  holies, 
which  even  husband  and  wife  cannot  penetrate.  There  is  an 
altar  where  God  and  the  soul  must  meet  alone.  The  husband 
must  stand  back,  reverently,  while  the  wife  ministers  there; 
and  the  wife  must  stand  back,  reverently,  while  the  husband 
ministers  there. 


I  believe  that  there  are  heroic  struggles  here  for  self  mastery, 
and  for  every  such  triumph  the  recording  angel  dashes  away 
the  gathering  tears,  and  writes:  "Well  done,"  in  the  book  of 
everlasting  remembrance. — Hospital  Lecture. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  419 

Labor,  compelled  to  grind  in  the  prison  house,  blinded  and 
maddened,  like  Samson  of  old,  at  length  lays  hold  upon  the  pil- 
lars of  the  social  fabric,  and  threatens  to  bury  master  and 
slave  in  one  common  ruin. 


I  maintain  that  the  law  of  competition  and  the  law  of  love 
must  both  be  obeyed  if  there  is  to  be  any  permanent  amity  be- 
tween capital  and  labor. 


When  I  was  in  college,  I  used  to  be  a  great  admirer  of  the 
essays  and  addresses  of  E.  P.  Whipple.  I  have  often  wondered 
why  he  did  not  fulfill  the  promise  of  his  youth,  though  I  have 
never  searched  for  the  reason;  but  the  other  day  my  attention 
was  called  to  this  explanation:  He  made  haste  to  be  famous ; 
he  took  no  pains  to  lay  deep  foundations,  and  to  widen  his  in- 
tellectual horizon;  he  never  used  the  telescope  and  swept  the 
heavens;  he  confined  himself  to  the  microscope  and  to  isolated 
subjects.  In  his  early  days,  he  had  despised  the  patient  labor 
of  laying  in  a  generous  background,  to  give  strong  and  ample 
support  to  the  efforts  of  maturer  years.  He  struck  ten  early, 
but  he  ran  down  before  he  could  strike  twelve. — Chapel 
Lecture. 


Illiteracy  is  the  tempest  center,  which  threatens  the  destruc- 
tion of  that  constitutional  liberty  which  the  fathers  builded. 
The  little  red  school-house  is  the  burning  bush  in  the  wilder- 
ness, out  of  which  God  declares  the  secret  of  deliverance  from 
multiplying  perils.  Protect  the  little  red  school-house  from  its 
secret  or  open  foes,  whether  they  be  infidel,  or  catholic,  or 
protestant.  Let  the  state  assert  her  independence  and  her 
supremacy!  Let  her  listen  to  no  dictation  from  any  of  the 
churches,  or  from  the  enemies  of  all  the  churches.  Let  her 
guard  her  own  treasury,  and  provide  therefrom  for  every  child 
a  common  school  education  in  the  English  language.  If 
assured  that  it  is  furnished  and  enforced  in  other  ways,  let  her 
not  interfere  with  conscience;  and  let  her  lay  no  restrictions 
upon  higher  education  under  secular  or  sectarian  direction! 
Just  so  much,  and  no  more,  is  demanded  for  self-preservation. 
And  may  he  who  lifts  his  hand  against  the  commonwealth  in 
such  assertion  of  her  majesty,  be  branded  as  the  enemy  of  democ- 
racy in  America! 


420  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

Last  fall  I  was  interested  in  watching  a  tree  in  a  garden. 
Though  the  fruit  was  not  large,  the  color  was  fair.  The  tree 
stood  near  the  road,  etc.;  the  fence  was  low,  yet  the  boys  did 
not  climb  over.  There  was  not  a  single  club  lodged  up  among 
the  limbs.  But,  one  night,  we  had  a  heavy  frost,  and,  the  next 
day,  those  branches  were  bare.  "//  takes  frost  "  to  make  per- 
simmons good  fruit.  You  may  be  acquainted  with  Christians 
of  this  persimmon  variety.  Farther  on,  is  another  tree.  You 
are  tempted  to  pass  it  by.  The  fruit  has  the  size  and  hardness 
of  bullets;  in  general,  it  wears  a  sort  of  leaden  look.  You  can- 
not detect  the  least  likeness  to  the  rosy  or  the  orange  hues, 
that  beautify  others  near  by.  The  sun  pours  down  his  rays, 
month  after  month,  to  see  what  he  can  do.  The  earth  cracks 
open  to  catch  the  rain;  then  closes,  and  gives  the  dry  roots  a 
hot  pack,  to  cleanse  the  pores,  and  quicken  the  circulation.  And 
thus  the  toilsome  process  goes  on.  You  notice  that  the  fruit  is 
slowly  growing  but  its  surface  is  getting  more  freckled,  and 
ugly,  week  by  week.  You  turn  away  in  disgust.  Yet  come  back, 
late  in  the  autumn,  and  look  up,  and  you  will  see  those  limbs 
laden  with  golden  russets,  the  apples  that  you  love  best  in  the 
long  winter  evenings,  when  the  storm  rages  without  and  the  fire 
roars  within.  A  great  deal  of  Christianity,  in  this  world,  is  of 
the  rusty-coat  variety;  but  it  stands  the  final  test. 


The  little  Jordan  cuts  a  deeper  channel  in  thought,  than  the 
mighty  Amazon,  with  all  its  waters. 


"As  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord."  This  law 
of  time  is  likewise  the  law  of  eternity.  Physical  relationships 
will  disappear  in  the  realms  where  Christ  declares  that  they 
"neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage;"  but  spiritual  affini- 
ties will  be  perpetuated,  world  without  end.  This  is  one  of  the 
noblest  incentives  to  a  c'ose  community  of  religious  interests  in 
the  home.  Let  Christian  consecration  bind  together  all  the 
members  of  the  household  in  a  holy  alliance,  and,  though  death 
may  seem  to  break  the  golden  links  of  the  family  chain,  one  by 
one,  and  to  leave  them  as  only  shining  fragments  on  the  shores 
of  time,  the  Lord  of  Life  will  unite  those  links  again  till  the 
chain  is  complete  once  more,  and  so  long  as  the  blessed  enjoy- 
ments of  eternity  last  shall  the  words  hold  true:  "As  for  me  and 
my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord." 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  42  I 

You  never  saw  two  human  faces  that  you  could  not  tell  apart. 
God  never  runs  out  of  patterns.  He  never  duplicates.  Every 
time  that  he  creates  a  human  being,  he  gets  up  a  new  design, 
and  then  breaks  the  mould. 


To-day,  the  lad  may  give  the  smallest  and  sourest  apples  to 
his  brothers  and  sisters  and  make  sad  havoc  with  the  sweet- 
meats which  his  mother  supposes  securely  hidden  in  the  pantry, 
but  to-morrow  he  will  dream  of  being  the  benefactor  of  his 
native  town,  of  rearing  asylums  for  orphans,  and  of  making 
munificent  provision  for  churches  and  colleges.  That  one  who 
seems  to  you  nothing  but  a  gross  compound  of  selfish  animal- 
ism, does,  now  and  then,  have  some  very  serious  thoughts  about 
being  an  angel  by  and  by.  Only  do  not  expect  of  him  a 
precipitate  flight  up  out  of  these  things  of  time  and  sense. 


It  is  the  7th  of  August,  1679,  a  day  pregnant  with  the  issues 
of  the  future.    Poets  have  sung  ot  the  Argo  and  of  the  quest  of 
the  golden  fleece;  but  what  poet  ever  sang  of  the  Griffin,  the 
first  vessel  that  plowed  our  inland  seas?     As  La  Salle  turned 
her  prow  down  Lake  Erie  toward  the  head  of  Lake  Michigan, 
it  was  the  fine  prophecy  of  the  fleets  and  commerce  of  to-day, 
between  Chicago  and  the  ocean.     In  contrast,  how  trifling  was 
the  value  of  the  golden  fleece!  When  the  epic  poet  of  America 
is  born,  his  hero  will  be  La  Salle,  the  hero  of  Illinois.   *  *  *     I 
have  dwelt  at  such  length  upon  Indian  and  French  sentiment 
and   heroism   within   our  borders  in   the  long   ago,  because, 
though  they  have  little  place  in  the  thought  and  talk  of  the 
multitude,  they  give  a  certain  remoteness,  a  glamour  of  distance, 
a   glow  of   imagination,   a   richness  of   suggestion,  a   dash  of 
chivalry,   a  robe  of  romance,   to   a  commonwealth  which  is 
usually  looked  upon  as  knowing  no  past,  as  having  suddenly 
sprung  out  of  the  prairie  sod  a  generation  ago,  a  foundling  and 
a  groundling,   coarse,  gross,   groveling,   without   a    pedigree, 
great  and  to  be  great  in  nothing  but  the  lustiest  animalism, 
*    *    *     \Ve  have  no  reason  to  blush  for  our  heritage.    The 
past  "is  rich  in  sentiment,  and  chivalry,  and  romance,  and  de- 
votion, and  loyalty,  and  heroism.     It  is  an  honor  to  be  able  to 
say:     "I  was  born  in  Illinois,  I  live  for  Illinois,  and  I  hope  to 
rest,  by  and  by,  beneath  the  sod  of  Illinois." — From  an  address 
before  the  State  Press  Association. 


422  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

The  Department  of  sociology  is  as  yet  a  vast  unknown.  It 
has  its  explorers,  but  they  do  not  reach  the  interior.  They 
coast  along  the  shores.  They  map  out  the  headlands.  They 
sail  up  a  stream  here  and  there,  till  they  come  to  rapids  and 
cataracts.  But  it  is  another  dark  continent  still  waiting  for  its 
Livingstones  and  Stanleys. 


Every  Christian  should  be  a  church-member  for  his  own  sake. 
He  is  safer.  He  is  less  exposed  to  temptation.  You  godly 
people  respect  him,  now.  He  is  free  from  any  suspicion  of 
moral  cowardice.  The  world  is  not  constantly  trying  him,  to 
see  whether  he  is  spiritually  vertebrate  or  invertebrate.  He  is 
classified.  He  is  not  one  of  those  nondescript  specimens,  which 
people  delight  in  handling  over  and  over,  as  they  do  any  other 
curiosity,  till  they  damage  it  unintentionally  in  trying  to  decide 
what  it  is  and  where  it  belongs.  *  *  *  A  man  may  get  his 
title  clear  at  last,  without  joining  any  church,  but  he  will  cer- 
tainly, at  the  same  time,  have  cut  down  his  pattern  for  all 
eternity.  *  *  *  Enrolled  soldiers  press  forward  toward 
the  front,  shouting  the  name  of  the  King.  Independent  camp 
followers  bring  up  the  rear,  on  track  of  spoils.  Both  may  enter 
in  through  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city,  but  which  shall  stand 
nearest  to  the  throne  of  the  Great  Conqueror? 


"  Ephraim  is  a  cake  not  turned,"  saith  the  Scripture.  How 
many  suchEphraims  a  long-suffering  world  has  to  digest!  The 
market  is  full  of  fruit  picked  too  green.  When  will  our  youth 
learn  to  let  the  ripening  process  complete  its  mellow  round. — 
Chapel  Lecture. 


Have  you  not  repeatedly,  when  listening  to  some  discussion, 
said  to  yourself:  "  How  stupid  in  me  never  to  have  put  that 
thought  into  that  clear  statement  before;  the  material  has  been 
right  here  within  my  reach.  That  idea  i^  no  more  the  speaker's 
than  it  is  mine.  That  is  my  luck.  I'm  just  a  little  too  late.  I 
did  not  happen  to  think  quickly  enough."  O  no,  my  friend, 
there  is  no  happen  about  it.  That  is  genius.  That  idea  is  more 
his  than  yours.  He  has  the  power  of  taking  that  truth  up  out 
of  the  mind's  unsorted  materials,  and  making  it  stand  out  clear 
and  beautiful. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 

Very  frequently  our  Father  hedges  up  one  way,  that  he  may 
divert  us  into  another  path  which  will  bring  us  to  a  better  out- 
come of  the  general  enterprise. 


There  is  less  and  less  anxiety  as  to  how  people  are  baptized, 
and  more  and  more  anxiety  that  people  shall  repent,  so  as  to  be 
fit  to  be  baptized. 


The  greatest  internal  peril  to  American  Christianity,  at  pres- 
ent, is  the  reluctance  on  the  part  of  men  and  women  to  go  into 
a  room  alone  every  day,  and  shut  the  door,  and  devote  them- 
selves to  an  earnest,  patient,  prayerful  study  of  the  Word 
of  God. 


When  I  was  a  boy,  I  used  to  think  that  if  I  could  be  a  min- 
ister, and  make  sermons  for  a  steady  busines,  I  could  just  drop 
out  of  the  Lord's  prayer  the  petition,  "  Lead  me  not  into  temp- 
tation." But  of  all  temptations,  the  most  subtle,  and  danger- 
ous, and  everlastingly  present,  the  one  that  you  may  think 
that  you  have  scotched  and  killed,  and  that,  in  three  minutes, 
will  be  livelier  and  uglier  than  before,  is  this  temptation  ta 
magnify  self,  instead  of  magnifying  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 


Free  domestic  expenditure  and  niggardly  public  benevo- 
lence are  conclusive  proof  of  a  little  soul.  Out  upon  the  no- 
tion, that  lavish  outlay  at  home  should  shield  from  contempt 
the  man  who  is  mean  and  miserly  in  matters  of  public  welfare. 
He  is  of  the  same  size  as  the  man  who  spends  his  money  di- 
rectly upon  himself.  About  the  only  difference  is  that  the 
one  is  made  on  a  B  last  and  the  other  on  an  A. 


Remember  it  is  not  a  proof  of  a  misfit  in  life,  that  many  of 
your  purposes  fail  of  accomplishment.  If  you  have  ingenu- 
ously committed  your  way  unto  the  Lord,  he  has  formed  a 
plan  for  your  life,  and  he  is  carrying  out  that  plan  right 
through  the  thwarting  of  many  projects  which  appear  to  be  es- 
sential to  earthly  success  and  to  the  welfare  of  Zion.  This  is 
the  hardest  lesson  that  God  has  ever  set  me  to  learn.  My 
voung  friends,  may  his  gracious  Spirit  incline  you  all  to  heed 
this  lesson  earlier,  and  may  he  give  you  strength  to  master  it 
more  perfectly. — Chapel  Lecture 


424  SERMONS   AND   ADDRESSES. 

Notwithstanding  the  prosy  character  of  the  regulation  work 
of  all  vocations,  there  is  great  comfort,  satisfaction;  yes  exhilara- 
tion, in  the  assurance  that  one  has  got  into  the  little  niche  God 
intended  that  he  should  fill.  The  drill  days  are  many,  the 
field  days  are  few.  We  must  find  our  joy  in  the  former  and 
leave  the  sending  or  with-holding  of  the  latter  to  an  all-wise 
Providence.  That  shepherd  lad  waded  the  brooks  of  Bethle- 
hem for  years,  picking  out  the  smoothest  pebbles,  and  training 
hand  and  eye  upon  a  thousand  worthless  marks.  But  there 
was  a  chance  to  make  himself  a  marks-MAN.  That  he  would  be. 
whether  or  not  a  Goliath  ever  came  that  way.  It  is  ours  to  get 
ready.  It  is  God's  to  send  us  the  fine  opportunity,  or  not,  as 
seemethto  him  best. 


There  is  not  one  of  you,  who  does  not  know  what  the  word, 
ought,  means;  and  yet  it  is  the  profoundest  word  in  the  lan- 
guage. It  reaches  to  the  bottom  of  hell  and  to  the  summit  of 
heaven.  And  the  wonder  of  it  is  that  the  smallest  boy  yonder, 
in  his  little  sphere,  understands  the  essential  meaning  of  that 
word,  "ought,"  just  as  well  as  the  great  God  understands  it  in 
the  unmeasured  sweep  of  his  thought.  It  is  only  in  his  worst 
moods  that  even  the  insane  man  gets  beyond  the  recognition 
of  this  imperative.  Every  public  speaker  has  felt,  much  bet- 
ter than  he  can  describe,  that  mysterious  response,  noiseless, 
but  thrilling,  which  occasionally  comes  to  him  from  his  audi- 
ence. I  recall  an  afternoon,  years  ago,  when  I  was  chaplain 
at  the  insane  hospital.  I  was  preaching  on  a  kindred  topic, 
and  took  occasion  to  crowd  home  the  thought,  that  there  was 
not  a  man  or  woman  present,  who  did  not,  then  and  there, 
clearly  understand  and  distinctly  recognize  the  binding  person- 
al application  of  the  word  ought.  The  hush  was  like  the  hush  of 
the  grave.  Nobody  looked  excited.  The  effect  was  tranquiliz- 
ing.  It  was  a  moment  of  wonderful  calm  upon  a  troubled 
sea. — Chapel  Lecture. 


You  put  a  little  leaven  with  even  three  measures  of  meal 
and  it  will  change  the  character  of  the  whole  mass.  You  put 
a  little  leaven  with  only  a  handful  of  meal,  and  you  will  have 
nothing  but  froth  and  ferment.  When  self-righteousness  gets 
hold  of  a  small  man,  its  work  is  especially  deplorable. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 


425 


Everybody  will  sooner  or  later  go  to  his  own  place,  just  as 
certainly  as  did  Judas.  Who  can  tell  precisely  when  that 
question  was  forever  settled  in  his  case?  "Was  it  not  till  he 
went  out  and  hanged  himself?  Was  it  when  Satan  entered  into 
his  heart  at  the  last  supper?  Or  was  it  that  evening  at  Bethany 
when  he  rebuked  Mary  for  pouring  the  precious  ointment  upon 
the  head  of  the  Redeemer?  We  are  told'  that,  as  far  back  as 
that,  he  was  a  thief.  Or  may  not  the  crisis  have  come  much 
earlier,  some  day  when  he  was  sitting  alone  upon  the  shore  of 
Galilee,  counting  the  cost,  and  deciding  that  the  service  of  his. 
so-called  Master  would  not  pay? 


The  deepest  affection  for  those  who  are  gone  may  be  proved 
by  tender  solicitude  for  those  who  remain.  It  is  a  sad  mis- 
take, in  a  season  of  bereavement,  or  disappointment,  to  shut 
ourselves  in  from  the  world  for  months  and  years.  The  no- 
tion may  be  partly  good.  It  may  seem  a  tribute  of  devotion, 
an  evidence  of  special  tenderness  of  heart,  or  of  a  peculiarly  sen- 
sitive organization;  but  there  is  a  danger  that  an  intrusive  and 
ruinous  selfishness  will  take  possession  of  one  who  thus  sets 
aside  the  claims  of  society,  and  broods  over  private  sorrows.  God 
would  through  these  trials  and  afflictions  educate  us  to  a 
sweeter  womanhood,  or  a  finer  manhood.  Yet,  how  often  do 
such  things  embitter  and  belittle  the  sufferer.  If  another 
life  has  been  the  joy  of  my  life,  and  I  am  then  left  behind  in 
this  world,  that  memory  should  be  to  me  an  inspiration,  reveal- 
ing the  power  of  one  soul  over  another,  and  quickening  within 
me  all  the  springs  of  benevolence. 


For  four  thousand  years,  the  wise  ones  of  the  earth  had  been 
preaching  from  the  text,  "  Know  Thyself."  They  had  pre- 
sented this  outline,  and  that,  to  humanity,  insisting  Ms  is  you, 
and  that  is  you,  yet  the  reply  was  carried  back  invariably: 
"  The  feature  does  not  suit.  It  is  not  like  me.  This  is  too  gross, 
and  that  is  too  ghostly."  Then  appeared  Christ,  saying:  "  Lost 
image  of  my  Father's  glory,  let  me  try."  One  sitting  was 
enough.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  faithfulness  of  that 
likeness,  with  all  its  s?tanic  or  angelic  possibilities;  and  the 
response  came:  "  I  see,  I  see  myself  at  last.  How  much  do  I 
owe  Thee,  O  Lord .'" 


426  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Do  not  pry  too  curiously  into  the  hearts  of  those  who  do  you 
a  kindness.  Throw  the  dollar  into  the  market  for  what  it 
will  bring,  and  not  into  the  retort  to  see  what  it  is  made  of.  Es- 
pecially in  reference  to  the  every  day  courtesies  of  life,  should 
we  avoid  all  careful  inquisition.  These  are  mostly  spontaneous. 
Each  has  so  trifling  a  value  that  there  is  little  temptation  to 
adulterate.  It  is  possible  to  counterfeit  even  a  penny;  but  it 
does  not  pay.  You  are  safe  in  taking  such  small  change  with- 
out examination.  So  is  it  with  the  little  civilities  which  are  cur- 
rent among  men. — Chapel  Lecture. 


That  was  to  Abraham  Lincoln  a  dreary  day  in  '54,  when 
Lyman  Trumbull  triumphed  over  him  in  the  contest  for  the  U. 
S.  Senatorship.  But  it  was  God's  will  that  he  should  stay  at 
home,  and  get  ready  for  the  memorable  struggle  with  Stephen 
A.  Douglas,  in  '58.  And  again  the  same  glittering  prize  slipped 
from  his  eager  hand,  and  his  long  face  grew  yet  longer  with 
disappointment.  But  it  was  God's  will  that  he  should  stay  at 
home  once  more  and  wait  for  the  presidency  in  1860.  "Per 
ardua  ad  astra."  Thackeray  gets  at  the  philosophy  of  all  this 
on  the  human  side,  in  a  homely  but  piquant  way,  when  he  says: 
"  If  you  lose  a  tooth,  it  may  give  you  a  momentary  pang,  but 
do  not  stop  eating.  Learn  as  quickly  as  possible,  to  mumble 
your  crust  on  the  other  side  of  your  jaw." 


When  you  go  into  any  calling  or  profession,  it  is  necessary  if 
you  succeed,  to  adopt  the  motto:  "  This  one  thing  I  do."  But 
precisely  there  comes  in  a  danger.  Beware  of  saying  in  the 
most  rigid  sense,  I  will  be  nothing  but  a  lawyer,  nothing 
but  a  farmer,  nothing  but  a  doctor,  nothing  but  a 
merchant,  nothing  but  a  preacher,  nothing  but  a  college 
professor.  While  most  of  our  energies  should  be  given  to  the 
specialty,  sufficient  should  be  reserved  to  insure  a  genuine-in- 
terest in  whatever  gladdens  Christian  civilization.  Michael 
Angelo  came  along  one  day,  took  his  stand  beside  a  pupil  and 
watched  the  work.  Presently,  without  speaking,  he  reached 
over  the  youth's  shoulder,  wrote  upon  the  canvas  the  single 
word  " amplius" — wider,  and  walked  away.  That  word  was 
to  the  boy  at  once  a  revelation  and  an  inspiration.  Every  on 
needs  to  carry  with  him  into  his  all-absorbing  work  that  talis- 
man, Amplius. —  Wider. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  427 

Wisdom's  advance  guard  always  occupies  as  outposts  what 
will  be  the  camping  places  of  the  hosts,  a  generation  after- 
wards. 


We  can  never  prescribe  the  agencies  through  which  God 
must  work  out  the  deliverance  of  his  people.  He  may  dis- 
miss all  of  our  fine  martial  array,  and  summon  to  the  field  only 
some  boorish  Shamgar  with  his  oxgoad.  We  elders  have  our 
fixed  habits  for  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Lord.  They  cannot 
be  wholly  changed.  We  must  still  wear  a  helmet  that  feels 
easy  to  the  head.  We  do  better  service  with  a  coat  of  mail. 
It  would  be  cruel  to  ask  us  to  lay  such  trappings  aside.  They 
and  their  wearers  deserve  credit  for  past  achievements.  Still, 
our  eyes  should  not  be  blind  to  the  other  fashions  that  are  com- 
ing in.  It  is  well  to  adopt  such  as  will  not  be  too  trying  to  our 
stiffened  limbs;  but,  at  all  events,  let  us  give  the  younger  men 
perfect  liberty  of  selection.  What  is  a  fit  for  us  will  be  a  mis- 
fit for  them. — Chapel  Lecture. 


"  Shall  I  be  remembered  by  posterity?"  said  the  dying  Gar- 
field.  How  varied,  tremulous  and  pathetic  are  the  tones  in 
which  the  soul  cries  after  immortality.  Even  when  the  author's 
voice  is  hushed  in  the  last  sleep,  the  silent  volume  into  which 
his  life  has  gone,  looks  down  from  the  library  shelf  with  mute 
appeal  for  recollection.  During  the  last  month  I  have  had  oc- 
casion to  give  a  cursory  examination  to  several  books  written 
by  friends  whose  earthly  life  is  ended.  The  books  are  good, 
and  true,  but,  somehow,  they  have  failed  to  impress  themselves 
upon  this  generation,  the  dust  begins  to  settle  upon  them,  and 
there  will  be  no  call  for  another  edition.  There  has  been  a 
choking  in  the  throat  and  a  dimness  of  vision,  at  thought  of  the 
hopes  which  have  not  reached  fruition.  And  so  the  other  even- 
ing, as  I  turned  over  leaf  after  leaf  of  that  manuscript  volume 
on  Moral  Philosophy,  reading  here  and  there  a  passage,  written 
with  a  hand  trembling  with  the  chill  of  more  than  four-score 
winters,  my  heart  went  out  with  loving  tenderness  toward  the 
patient,  unassuming,  appealing  old  gentleman,  whom  circum- 
stances had  denied  even  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  in  print  his 
book,  the  child  of  his  old  age. — At  the  funeral  of  Prof .  Mason 
Grosvenor. 


428  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

"Wherefore  wilt  thou  run,  my  son,  seeing  that  thou  hast  no 
tidings  ready?  "  This  youth,  Ahimaaz,  represents  a  multitude 
in  the  present  generation.  You  hear  on  every  side  the  clamor 
of  those  who  want  to  run  without  the  trouble  of  getting  their 
tidings  ready.  To-morrow  morning,  in  this  building,  more 
than  one  instructor  will  have  occasion  to  say:  "Wherefore 
wilt  thou  run  my  son,  seeing  thou  hast  no  tidings  ready?  "  How 
often  does  Ahimaaz  appear  upon  the  platform,  on  Wednesday, 
with  no  tidings  ready,  with  an  old  selection  imperfectly  learned, 
and  delivered  with  stammering  tongue  and  confusion  of  face; 
or  it  may  be  with  so-called  tidings,  in  the  form  of  essay  or  ora- 
tion, which  suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  hearer  nothing  but  the 
"  wherefore, "  of  the  text.  We  want  for  recitations  and  for 
rhetoricals  more  men  with  "  tidings  ready,"  men  whose  work 
smells  of  the  lamp,  men  unto  whom  a  black-board  is  not  a  hor- 
ror of  great  darkness;  men  whose  translations  catch  Homeric 
and  Horatian  pitch  and  tone;  men  whose  reading  in  philoso- 
phy takes  them  far  enough  beyond  the  text-book  to  reveal  the 
difference  between  Comte  and  Kant. — Chapel  Lecture. 


There  is  the  impassable  gulf  between  the  saved  and  the  not- 
saved.  This  is  no  plea  that,  in  referring  to  lost  men,  we  should 
learn  to  talk  of  them  as  Wendell  Phillips  does  about  the 
"Lost  Arts,"  letting  his  hearers  down  from  the  pinnacle  of 
pride  in  so  charming  style,  that  there  is  fascination  in  the 
humiliation.  It  must  never  be  forgotten  that  the  soul  is  in 
danger  of  eternal  damage.  No  one  can,  without  trifling,  dis- 
course of  Paradise  Lost  as  he  would  discourse  of  the  lost  arts 
of  making  malleable  glass  and  Damascus  blades.  The  latter 
are  fit  subjects  for  the  most  brilliant  rhetorical  treatment.  But 
the  New  Testament  conception  of  guilt  and  its  consequences 
cannot  by  any  witchery  of  speech  be  transformed  into  a  thing 
of  beauty.  Sin,  unrepented  of,  is  a  sorrow  forever. 


It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  brought,  now  and  then,  into  con- 
tact with  a  life  larger,  sweeter,  purer  than  your  own.  It  saves 
you  from  utterly  losing  your  confidence  in  human  nature. 
You  pick  up  the  poor  broken  ideal  and  put  it  together  once 
more,  piece  by  piece,  and,  though  the  cracks  still  show,  you  da 
not  dash  it  down  again,  as  a  worthless  thing. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  429 

Should  you  happen  down  by  the  railroad,  take  a  look  at  one 
of  those  black  chunks  lying  on  a  coal-car.  "Well,  what  of  that," 
say  you.  Why,  the  next  time  you  see  it,  it  may  be  streaming 
from  the  burners  yonder  in  Amusement  Hall  for  you  to  dance 
by.  When  the  prodigal  gets  home  and  there  is  music  and 
dancing,  it  is  often  by  the  light  that  God  has  brought  out  of 
these  same  dark  earthly  experiences. — Hospital  Lectures. 


When  men  assail  the  wonders  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  of  the 
New,  and  seem  to  overwhelm  them  with  contempt,  be  not 
alarmed.  You  may  have  to  give  up  some  of  your  old  notions. 
But  go  fearlessly  to  the  Book.  Free  it  from  the  traditions  of 
men.  Put  it  upon  its  own  merits.  Let  it  speak  for  itself.  "The 
word  of  the  Lord  endureth  forever."  There  is  no  more  convin- 
cing proof  of  its  inspiration,  than  the  fact  that  it  has  had  to  carry, 
century  after  century,  the  misconstructions  of  friends,  and  the 
libels  of  foes,  and  has  still  won  more  and  more  upon  the  heart  of 
the  world,  from  age  to  age.  And  so  it  is  to  continue,  sloughing 
off  the  blundering  interpretations  of  its  adherents,  and  repell- 
ing the  malicious  assaults  of  its  enemies,  until  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Jesus  shall  have  "free  course,  and  run,  and  be  glorified:" 
and  this  Sacred  Volume  shall  become  the  great  text  book  of 
the  nations. 


One  afternoon,  last  winter,  we  had  a  long  talk  together.  He 
said  that  he,  years  ago,  settled  down  into  the  belief  that 
probably  there  was  a  God  somewhere,  but  that  he  himself 
must  try  to  do  about  right  and  then  take  the  chances.  I  told 
him  that  I  thought  that  a  very  bad  creed,  either  to  live  by,  or 
to  die  by,  that  I  could  not  bear  to  see  him  face  the  future  with 
nothing  better,  that  what  he  needed  for  the  ordeal,  manifestly 
just  before  him,  was  the  presence  of  a  sympathetic  Christ, 
strong  and  grand.  He  said  he  knew  it,  he  wished  he  could  be- 
lieve as  I  did,  he  wished  he  could  accept  the  Bible.  I  urged 
him  to  let  the  rest  go  for  the  present,  and  read  and  pray  over 
the  Gospel  of  John.  He  went  on  to  say  that  he  was  thinking 
on  the  subject  as  he  had  never  thought  before,  that  he  did  not 
want  to  make  a  mistake,  that  if  he  was  right  and  I  was  wrong, 
he  was  no  better  off  than  I;  that  if  I  was  right  and  he  was 
wrong,  I  was  infinitely  better  off  than  he.  "And,"  continued  he, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  this?  I  had  a  praying  father  and  mother, 


430  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

and  they  are  constantly  with  me  in  my  sleep,  urging  this  matter 
upon  my  attention.  I  do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it!"  I  an- 
swered that  I  did,  that  it  was  a  beautiful  illustration  of  God's 
use  of  natural  agencies;  that  he  himselt  had  just  said  that  his 
waking  thoughts  were  on  the  subject  of  religion,  that  he  had 
told  me  incidentally  a  little  while  before  of  being  obliged  to  take 
an  opiate,  at  night,  to  deaden  pain  and  secure  sleep.  Now  the 
opium  simply  vivifies  your  daytime  thought,  intensifies  it,  cuts 
pictures  so  that  you  seem  to  see  the  very  features  of  those,  who, 
when  you  were  a  child,  prayed  that  you  might  be  a  child  of 
God.  There  are  no  spirits  there,  but  what  the  doctor  gives 
you  to  relieve  this  suffering  body,  God  is  trying  to  use  to  save 
your  suffering  soul.  *  *  *  The  weeks  passed  on.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  I  could  see  a  change.  That  hard  stoicism  softened 
into  resignation.  His  wife  noticed  the  difference.  There  was 
a  sweetness  of  disposition,  a  self-forgetfulness  unknown  be- 
fore. I  said  no  more  for  a  while.  I  did  not  dare  to  speak.  It 
was  a  trembling  hope  that  God's  spirit  was  doing  the  work.  I 
was  afraid  of  spoiling  it.  Finally,  one  day  five  or  six  weeks 
ago,  we  were  alone.  He  had  been  suffering,  and  I  was  trying 
to  support  him  in  ari  easier  position.  I  put  my  hand  on  his 
head  and  said:  "Joe,  haven't  you  learned  yet  to  lean  on  the 
arm  that  is  strong?"  And  he  answered:  "Yes,  there  isn't  any 
other."  Said  I:  "I  am  thankful,  then,  that  God  has  sent  ail 
these  afflictions  upon  you.  How  glad  I  am  you  did  not  die  last 
year."  Said  he:  "So  am  I.  I'm  willing  to  live  still,  but  now 
I'd  like  to  go." — At  the  funeral  of  a  friend. 


The  soul  shudders  as  it  looks  down  that  inclined  plane  of 
eternal  degradation  which  is  lost  to  view  in  the  bottomless  pit. 
The  soul  exults  as  it  looks  up  those  heights  of  blessedness 
which  rise  in  easy  succession,  till  the  summit  is  resplendent 
with  all  the  possibilities  of  a  blessed  immortality.  My  young 
friends,  you  may  live  fifty  years,  and  yet,  practically,  reach  the 
limit  of  your  probation,  this  very  night. 


Would  that  before  their  damning  sin,  men  might  have  some 
glimpses  of  those  horrid  visions  that  come  after,  visions  which 
people  the  chambers  of  the  soul  with  ghastly  shapes  that  never 
rest;  shapes  that  with  stealthy  tread  and  white  faces  and 
sunken,  staring  eyes,  glide  everywhere! 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 


43  I 


I  could  shut  my  eyes,  and  even  hope,  with  Tennyson,  "that 
no  life  may  fail  beyon-d  the  grave,"  if  some  one  would  only 
harmonize  this  voice  of  him  that  wears  the  laurel  of  England, 
with  the  voice  of  Him  that  wore  the  crown  of  thorns  in 
Palestine. 


If  religion  is  ever  more  precious  at  one  time  than  at  any 
other,  it  is  in  the  night  watches.  It  has  then  special  power  to 
quiet  our  exaggerated  fancies.  Celestial  forms  glide  in  between 
us  and  those  spectral  shapes  that  frighten,  and,  instead  of  the 
voices  of  dread,  the  air  is  full  of  whispered  benediction. 


Some  one  has  made  this  curious  calculation.  A  bar  of  iron 
worth  five  dollars,  if  worked  up  into  horse-shoes,  is  worth  ten 
dollars  and  fifty  cents;  made  into  needles  it  is  worth  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty-five  dollars;  made  into  pen-knife  blades  it  is 
worth  three  thousand,  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  dollars; 
made  into  balance  springs  for  watches  it  is  worth  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Would  you  be  pig-iron  forever, 
rather  than  feel  the  fiery  breath  of  the  forge  and  the  hard 
blows  of  the  hammer?  Would  you  have  the  process  stop  with 
the  horseshoe,  or  the  needle,  or  the  knife  blade?  Wouldn't 
you  have  God  go  on  with  you,  till  you  are  fit  to  help  keep  time 
for  eternity !  He  wants  to  bring  out  the  very  highest  value 
that  there  is  in  us,  and  the  only  way  is  to  heat,  and  to  beat,  and 
to  temper-  and  to  polish.  Is  it  wise  for  us  to  cry  enough  until 
he  is  done?  / 


We  have  only  a  little  time  to  work.    These  fleeting  years  de- 
cide momentous  issues. 


During  the  war,  I  was  living  in  Oregon.  There  was  over 
across  the  coast  range,  along  the  ocean's  break,  a  little  isolated 
county  called  Tillamook.  It  numbered  just  thirty  voters.  A 
stray  newspaper  which  contained  the  announcement  that  the 
government  would  be  obliged  to  resort  to  drafting,  happened 
to  get  over  there.  Word  was  brought  back  that  all  Tillamook 
was  in  arms.  That  Tillamook  wasri  t  going  to  stand  the  draft! 
Don't  you  know  of  a  good  many  people  that  under  God's  gov- 
ernment are  forever  working  themselves  up  into  a  petty  fury 
and  playing  little  Tillamook? 


432  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

There  rises  to  view  a  little  red  school  house,  in  a  village  of 
long  ago.  The  scene  is  like  that  which,  may  be  looked  upon, 
in  any  rural  region  to-day.  The  game's  vary  somewhat.  There 
is  less  of  hopscotch  and  shinney.  Foot-ball  has  had  its  evolu- 
tion. Town-ball  has  developed  into  base-ball.  Peg-top,  and 
"sheep  and  wolf"  have  disappeared.  The  dresses  of  children 
have  lost  their  frontier  look.  Home-made  has  given  place  to 
ready-made.  But  the  faces  of  the  little  men  and  the  little  women 
vary  not  from  generation  to  generation.  Still  the  one  scene  is 
history,  while  the  other  is  only  prophecy.  Yet  the  latter  brings 
back  the  former,  and  in  succession  the  long-forgotten  reap- 
pear, some  to  tarry,  some  to  vanish  with  the  years.  Farm  and 
store,  shop  and  home  all  have  their  representatives,  but  those 
representatives  are  not  to  you  just  like  the  others  in  their 
neighborhood.  You  detect  the  school  traits.  You  trace  the 
influences  of  the  period  when  you  were  children  together,  and 
the  grasp  of  the  hand  means  what  it  would  not  otherwise.  The 
lad  who  could  not  lie,  even  to  the  teacher,  is  the  man  whose 
word  is  as  good  as  gold  to-day.  The  rogue  who  tricked  you 
out  of  your  marbles  then,  is  the  trader  who  will  cheat  you  out 
of  your  horse  to-morrow.  And  how  thickly  the  graves  multi- 
ply! The  headstones  are  humble.  Between  the  lines  of  some 
inscriptions  you  read  a  playground  trait.  In  other  cases,  you 
smile  incredulously,  at  the  taffy  in  the  epitaph.  What  a  trans- 
formation must  have  been  wrought  in  that  once  common  clay! 
Most  of  the  slabs  have  two  dates:  birth  and  death;  and  be- 
tween them  a  hyphen,  nothing  more.  Was  it  a  comedy?  Was 
it  a  tragedy?  'Was  it  both,  so  blended  that  even  affection 
hesitated  to  put  upon  the  marble  a  prediction  of  a  nobler 
after-place  by  and  by?  You  go  from  mound  to  mound.  Some 
of  the  headstones  have  fallen,  and  the  long  grass  has  grown , 
over  them.  As  you  push  it  aside,  and  spell  out  the  yellow 
names,  you  call  up  the  shadowy  faces,  that  you  had  utterly 
forgotten,  and  that  must  have  faded  utterly,  from  the  mem- 
ory of  all  others.  But  God  will  remember,  for  they  once  had 
a  trace  or  two  of  his  likeness. 


The  doubt  which  is  sincere,  earnest,  prayerful,  does  not 
court  publicity.  It  carries  on  the  conflict  in  secret,  and  is  still. 
Blatant  skepticism  always  excites  suspicion  as  to  its  own  gen- 
uineness. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 


433 


I  must  confess  that  my  great  disappointment,  in  my  more  ma- 
ture religious  life,  is  the  failure  to  find  in  all  employments  an 
ever-abounding  gladness.  Obedience  to  my  Master's  law  has 
brought  deliverance  from  bondage  to  sundry  evils,  and  with  it 
a  certain  ease  in  the  discharge  of  once  difficult  offices,  but  the 
fact  fails  to  carry  with  it  the  sense  of  unceasing  delight,  which 
I  know  ought  to  be  the  ever  present  attendant  of  such  an  ex- 
perience. *  *  *  Am  I  not,  in  thus  voicing  my  own  shame, 
giving  utterance  to  the  grief  of  every  Christian  present  over 
his  unthankfulness,  and  his  inexcusable  lack  of  buoyant  en- 
thusiasm? Still  more  am  I  amazed  and  confounded  at  the  dis- 
content and  petulance  so  characteristic  of  my  ordinary  conduct, 
when  I  turn  from  the  days  that  are  gone,  and  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  possibilities  of  the  life  to  come.  In  falling  so  far  below 
the. prevailing  gladness,  which  should  be  my  constant  portion 
in  view  of  the  power  of  the  endless  life,  would  that  I  were 
alone ! 


The  mother  clings  to  the  son,  as  sne  does  not  to  the  daugh- 
ter; and  the  father  cherishes  a  tenderness  for  the  daughter 
which  he  does  not  for  the  son.  Nevertheless,  a  peculiar  inter- 
est centers  in  the  future  of  the  latter.  He  bears  the  family 
name.  Upon  him  depends  its  perpetuation.  That  name  may 
be  by  no  means  illustrious,  but  there  is,  in  the  breast  of  every 
man,  an  aversion  to  having  his  name  die  with  himself.  *  *  * 
Cicero  discovers,  here,  an  intimation  of  immortalityi  He  sug- 
gests that  the  father  is  unconsciously  influenced  by  a  belief 
that,  in  another  state  of  existence,  he  shall  watch  the  unfolding 
of  his  own  family  history  on  earth,  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. Revelation  is  silent  on  the  subject;  yet  I  am  confident 
that  the  philosophy  of  the  question  is  somehow  wrapped  up  in 
the  doctrine  of  the  everlasting  life. 


Acquisition  makes  the  money.  Distribution  makes  the  man. 
Distribution  without  acquisition  dissipates  the  money.  Ac- 
quisition without  distribution  dissipates  the  man. 


Mountains  are  the  places  for  eagles'  nests.  It  is  invigora- 
ting, now  and  then,  to  watch  flights  where  the  air  is  too  thin 
for  your  own  wings. 


434  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Not  a  few  of  the  women  you  and  I  remember  most,  are  these 
unwedded  women  of  the  schoolhouse.  Of  them,  poets  seldom 
sing.  Of  them,  society  speaks  with  a  smile,  half  pitiful,  half 
contemptuous.  But  of  them,  this  world  is  not  worthy.  We 
glorifiy  the  self-sacrifice  of  motherhood.  The  sight  is  fair. 
But  let  us  be  impartial.  Love  not  the  mistress  of  the  home 
less,  but  love  more  the  mistress  of  the  school.  It  is  the  fashion 
to  magn  if y  the  influence  of  the  mother's  kiss  upon  the  destiny  of 
the  boy,  and  the  fashion  is  excellent.  But  men,  up  and  down 
the  world,  could  tell  you,  it  they  would,  that  it  was  not  so  much 
the  mother's  impulsive  kiss  as  the  wise  affection  of  the  conse- 
crated woman  in  the  schoolhouse,  that  awakened  their  first  im- 
pulse to  do  fine  service  for  mankind.  There  is  something 
touchingly  pathetic,  in  the  history  of  many  who  thus  spend 
year  after  year,  in  this  ministry  of  instruction.  An  under- 
tone of  sorrow  arouses  curiosity,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the 
quiet  dignity  of  the  personality  checks  impertinent  questioning. 
You  picture  to  yourself  some  disappointment,  which  is  hiding 
itself  in  a  hundred  gentle  offices.  What  might  have  been  a  con- 
vulsion loses  its  violence  in  the  beneficent  labors  of  love.  God's 
eye  reads  with  fondest  affection  many  of  these  unwritten  biog- 
raphies, which  are  sealed  books  to  you  and  me,  but  which 
draw  us  with  an  indefinable  sympathy  towards  their  objects, 
as  we  watch  them  pursue  their  silent,  uncomplaining  way; 
gently  restraining  the  rudeness  of  childhood  without  casting  a 
shadow  upon  its  joyousness.  You  may  detect,  now  and  then, 
some  surface  sign  which  indicates  that  there  still  exist  con- 
flicts in  secret,  when  the  heart  cries  out  for  a  love  which  it 
cannot  find,  a  richer  token  of  appreciation  than  another's 
boy  or  girl  can  give:  but  it  is  only  for  an  instant,  and  then 
the  current  flows  on  as  tranquilly  as  before.  If  the  novelist 
were  content  with  the  beauty  of  spirit,  rather  than  the  beau- 
ty of  the  flesh,  he  would  find  more  frequently  in  the  little 
red  school-house,  his  heroine.  If  the  dramatist  were  satisfied 
with  anything  less  than  the  wild  display  of  passion,  he  could 
distover  there  not  a  few  suppressed  tragedies. — From  an  ad- 
dress entitled  "  The  Little  Red  School- House." 


It  is  time  for  men  to  learn  that  it  is  not  safe  to  slap  the  face 
of  the  King  of  Kings  with  the  flat  palm  of  a  saucy  rhetoric. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS. 


435 


If  you  find  yourself  becoming  irritable  over  your  little  house 
and  cramped  circumstances,  instead  of  walking  up  and  down 
some  grand  avenue,  and  making  yourself  believe  that  you  are 
a  badly  abused  individual,  because  you  are  not  the  owner  of 
this  beautiful  lawn,  or  of  that  brown-stone  front, — find  your 
way  to  some  back  street,  where  the  tenements  are  twelve  by 
sixteen  feet  and  one  story  at  that,  where  the  shingles  let  in  rain 
and  snow,  where  rags  are  stuffed  through  broken  window 
panes,  where  there  is  a  general  air  of  forlornness,  where  the 
girlhood  is  hardened  out  of  the  mother's  face,  where  sullen- 
ness  has  driven  manliness  from  the  father'  countenance,  where 
half-fed  and  half-clad  children  quarrel  for  a  crust,  and  a  place 
next  the  dying  fire, — and  can't  you  see  fingers  pointing  at  you 
on  every  side,  and  can't  you  hear  voices  crying,  "shame/ 
'shame,"  upon  you,  for  your  discontent  and  rebellion! 


The  nearest  approach  to  a  pastoral  charge  that  I  have  ever 
enjoyed  has  been  an  insane  hospital  chaplaincy  for  the  past 
four  or  five  years.  We  have  an  average  congregation  of  about 
250  persons.  I  love  those  people  very  dearly.  I  love  to 
preach  to  them  better  than  to  any  other  audience.  We  close  our 
Sabbath  service  by  repeating  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  concert. 
As  tremulous  voices  here  and  there  speak  the  words,  "Our 
Father,"  and  presently  shattered  brain  and  broken  heart  falter 
out,  "Thy  will  be  done,"  and  a  moment  later,  some  whose  own 
will  power  has  been  destroyed  by  terrible  temptations  and  the 
chambers  of  whose  imagination  are  haunted  by  spirits  of  evil, 
cry  feebly  and  piteously,  "Lead  us  not  into  temptatioji,  but 
deliver  us  from  evil."  I  believe  that  the  great  heart  of  the  in- 
finite God  yearns  over  no  other  congregation  in  the  city,  as  it 
yearns  over  that  one. 


You  sometimes  hear  folks  say  that  God  may  admit  them  and 
give  them  the  remotest  and  humblest  place  in  the  kingdom.  I 
am  sure  that  our  Father  does  not  want  us  to  pray  so.  It  has  a 
mean  sound.  It  is  no  index  of  genuine  humility.  It  is  a  sort 
of  reflection  upon  Him,  as  if  it  were  a  pleasure  to  Him  to  send 
some  poor  soul  out  to  dwell  on  some  celestial  frontier.  No  I 
He  would  have  us  come  up  and  take  heavenly  places  in 
Christ  Jesus,  nearer,  nearer,  ever  nearer  to  Him. 


43 ^  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Let  now  the  prayer  of  Socrates  introduce  the  conclusion  of 
this  address:  "  I  beseech  thee,  O  God,  that  I  may  be  beautiful 
within."  Spiritual  beauty!  You  hold  in  your  hand  a  sea-shell. 
The  flow  of  its  curves  and  the  blending  of  its  tints  are  perfect. 
You  do  not  wonder  that  the  song  of  a  far-away  ocean  lingers 
there  in  diminuendo.  When  you  lift  that  shell  to  the  ear,  the 
fairness  of  the  sight,  by  association,  sweetens  the  sound.  In 
these  days  of  pilgrimage,  the  soul  may  take  on  such  form  and 
color  as  shall  give  fitting  welcome  to  the  wave-beats  of  the 
"Sea  of  glass."  Lord  Bacon,  in  saying  that,  "beautiful  persons 
have  a  beautiful  autumn,"  must  have  been  thinking  of  this 
spiritual  type  of  fairness.  The  suggestion  is  grateful  to  those 
of  your  number  in  whom  the  bright  picture  of  this  morning's 
graduation  awoke  half-envious  longings  for  a  return  to  the 
younger  day.  Physical  beauty  may  have  vanished.  The 
promise  of  intellectual  beauty  may  have  been  only  partially 
fulfilled,  on  account  of  life's  hard  conditions.  But  these  autumn 
alumnae  display  a  richness  of  spiritual  beauty,  which  we  shall 
not  discover,  this  side  the  twentieth  century,  in  our  girls  who 
have  just  received  their  diplomas.  "We  shall  see  the  KING  in 
his  BEAUTY."  And  we  shall  be  like  him.  And  that  beauty 
which  is  as  enduring  as  the  life  of  God,  is  the  beauty  of  HOLI- 
NESS.— From  an  address  to  the  alumnae  of  Jacksonville  Female 
Academy. 


Little  children  sometimes  stay  here  only  long  enough  to 
leave  a  picture  for  a  frontispiece.  Those  who.  go  hence  a  trifle 
later,  write  out,  it  may  be,  a  page  of  the  preface.  Those  who 
remain  until  opening  manhood  or  womanhood,  and  then  de- 
part, have  but  finished  the  preface,  indicating  their  general 
purpose.  Those  who  lay  down  the  pen  at  eighty,  have  only 
got  through  with  the  introductory  chapter. 


The  crowning  glory  of  our  colleges  is  their  silent  but  all-per- 
vasive influence.  Their  very  presence  is  a  mute  but  eloquent 
protest  against  sordid  ambitions,  coarse  tastes,  animalism,  an- 
archy. God  grant  that  their  healing  shadow,  like  that  of  St. 
Peter  upon  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  may  fall,  more  and  more, 
upon  the  multitudes  afflicted  with  divers  maladies,  throughout 
thsee  commonwealths. 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  '  437 

Some  time  ago  a  friend  came  to  our  house  with  a  hyacinth 
which  looked  healthy  and  just  ready  to  bloom.  She  said  it  had 
remained  so  a  long  time,  and  she  thought  a  different  location 
might  bring  it  out.  We  watched  it  for  several  days,  but  there 
was  no  sign  of  a  change.  Finally,  a  careless  child  knocked 
over  the  flower  pot,  spilled  the  dirt  upon  the  carpet,  and  strip- 
ped off  most  of  the  buds.  We  put  the  hyacinth  back,  as  best 
we  could,  and  called  it  ruined  for  the  season.  But  what  was 
our  surprise,  a  few  days  after,  to  find  it  blooming  and  fra- 
grant. It  was  not  equal  to  what  it  might  have  been,  if  its  first 
promise  had  been  fulfilled,  but  such  flowers  as  there  were, 
were  larger  and  sweeter  for  the  fall  that  had  brought  it  to 
itself.  There  are  a  great  many  broken  hyacinths  in  this 
world. 


"Wherefore  by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them."  If  you  will 
turn  to  a  concordance,  you  will  find  two  columns  referring  to 
the  word  fruit;  one  column  referring  to  the  word  root;  half  a 
column  referring  to  the  word  wood;  and  a  quarter  of  a  column 
referring  to  the  word  leaf. 


Take  a  simple  illustration  of  the  Bible  doctrine  of  Christian 
service.  You  are  a  house-holder.  You  hire  a  man  to  do  a  piece 
of  work.  He  reports  himself  at  night.  He  has  performed  the  task. 
You  count  him  out  the  stipulated  sum.  You  take  no  special 
interest  in  him  ;  he  feels  no  gratitude  toward  you.  It  is  simply 
a  business  transaction.  Just  then,  your  little  boy  comes  rushing 
in  with  dirty  hands,  smutty  face,  and  blood  up  to  fever  heat. 
He  has  been  digging  away  in  the  garden  to  please  you.  You 
look  out.  Your  hired  man  would  spade  up  more  ground  than 
that  for  a  sixpence,  or  worse,  perhaps,  what  the  child  has  done 
is  a  positive  damage;  he  has  thrown  up  a  bed,  where  you 
wanted  a  walk;  or  has  unwittingly  destroyed  some  of  your 
choicest  flowers;  but,  as  the  little  fellow  stands  there,  panting, 
and  telling  how  glad  he  is  to  help  you,  your  eyes  fill,  and  you 
are  ready  to  give  him  greenbacks,  purse,  and  all!  Now  it  is 
just  such  help  as  that,  that  God  wants  from  you  and  from  me. 
The  spirit  is  everything.  What  if  our  zeal  does  lead  us  into  a 
blunder  occasionally?  He  does  not  wish  to  deal  with  us  on  the 
profit  and  loss  principle. 


438  SERMONS  AND   ADDRESSES. 

It  is  a  heroic  sight  to  see  one  that  is  rich,  giving  liberally  not, 
for  applause,  not  from  fear  of  Jehovah,  not  from  impulse,  not 
because  he  loves  to  give;  but  because  he  hates  to  give;  to 
shake  off  the  fetters  of  mammon,  to  assert  his  independence, 
and  to  proclaim  himself  God's  free-man. 


Take  a  piece  of  graining.  To  be  sure  that  the  man  that  did 
the  graining  was  a  master  of  his  art,  you  must  pick  out  some 
panel  on  which  he  tried  to  represent  birds'-eyes  shivers  in  the 
oak, — or  better  still,  just  examine  his  work  where  he  endeav- 
ored to  bring  out  a  knot  in  the  wood.  The  knots  are  the  true 
tests  in  the  graining.  In  judging  your  character,  God  does  not 
look  at  the  light  and  the  shade  and  the  general  spread.  He  ex- 
amines the  knots.  If  you  are  converting  those  into  things  of  beau- 
ty, he  has  a  place  for  you  yonder.  Did  any  of  you  ever  live  in  a 
part  of  the  country  where  fir  was  the  principal  timber?  If  so,  you 
have  a  vivid  recollection  of  your  first  attempt  at  splitting  fire 
wood.  You  got  warm  a  great  deal  faster  than  did  the  people 
n  the  house.  You  know  that,  in  that  kind  of  tree,  wherever  a 
imb  shoots  out,  a  pin  runs  into  the  heart  of  the  trunk.  How 
you  drove  the  ax  into  the  soft  wood,  now  on  this  side  and  now 
on  that,  all  to  no  purpose,  till  an  old  settler  came  along,  took 
pity  on  you,  and  split  the  chunk  at  the  first  blow,  by  simply 
bringing  the  edge  of  the  ax  down  upon  the  center  of  the  knot! 
If  you  want  to  lay  open  character,  just  strike  for  the  ugliest 
knot  in  it.  That  was  what  Christ  always  did. 


The  only  way  for  your  chinless  man  to  be  sinless  is  to  keep 
far  away  from  temptation. 


Whenever,  in  life,  a  Mount  Nebo  obstructs  your  way, 
climb  it.  God  is  there.  Let  Him  teach  you  to  face  your 
disappointments  without  repining.  He  will  talk  with  you 
about  it  until  you  understand,  till  you  realize  the  blessedness 
of  those  that  mourn. 


How  can  he  who  reviews  the  past  and  dwells  upon  the 
many  proofs  of  God's  loving  providence  in  his  personal  history, 
let  the  doxology  die  out,  and  the  minor  key  steal  into  so  many 
strains  of  his  psalm  of  life? 


SELECTED  THOUGHTS.  439 

Daniel  Webster  silenced  if  he  did  not  convince  another,  who 
had  confused  ideas  upon  the  Trinity,  by  saying  with  that 
majestic  manner  so  characteristic  of  the  statesman:  "Sir,  you 
cannot  understand  the  arithmetic  of  heaven!"  I  used  to  ac- 
cept the  answer  as  satisfactory,  but  it  does  not  seem  so  these 
later  years.  With  all  deference  to  so  great  a  name,  I  cannot 
think  that  the  fundamental  rules  of  heaven's  arithmetic  differ 
from  the  fundamental  rules  of  earth's  arithmetic,  that  if  Abra- 
ham, Isaac  and  Jacob,  and  you  and  I,  were  given  some  exam- 
ple in  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication  or  division,  we 
should  get  contradictory  answers. 


It  is  only  when  you  examine  yourself  in  the  presence  of 
Christ,  that  you  get  a  genuine  photograph  of  your  moral 
character. 


Said  the  dying  artist  Sala,  when  they  had  borne  him  to  the 
church  that  he  might  take  a  last  look  at  his  work:  "  That  will 
do."  It  is  not  the  spread  of  historic  canvas;  it  is  not  the  size, 
but  \hz.  finish  of  the  picture,  which  God  looks  for  from  you  and 
me. 


Heart  strings  like  harp  strings  must  be  strained  to  be 
brought  into  tune.  Discordant  notes  are  harmonized  by  sor- 
row. You  can  not  weep  with  those  that  weep,  until  you 
have  felt  the  pangs  of  bereavement.  After  that,  whenever 
you  go  to  the  house  of  death,  you  thank  God  that  you  have 
followed  the  hearse  from  your  own  door;  for  whereas,  before, 
you  looked  on  with  a  mixture  of  curiosity  and  sorrow,  now 
your  heart  throbs  with  earnest  sympathy  for  the  afflicted;  and 
presently  there  are  lights  within  your  own  darkened  soul;  foot- 
falls that  ceased  long  ago,  are  caught  once  more.  There  glides  in 
the  form  that  was  your  strength  and  joy  for  years,  before  you 
were  left  to  battle  alone.  You  hear  anew  a  father's  last  pray- 
er and  a  mother's  last  whisper  unto  Jesus,  for  you.  You  clasp 
again  the  golden-haired  darling  that  Christ  took  so  soon  to  be 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  There  is  no  Christian  here  for 
whom  the  first  anguish  is  past  who  does  not  feel  that  it  is 
blessed  to  have  jewels  in  burial  caskets.  Thanks  be  unto  God 
for  the  hours  of  weeping  which  melt  down  the  icy  isolation  of 


44-O  SERMONS  AND  ADDRESSES. 

self,  and  bring  us  heart  to  heart  with  our  brethren;  which  draw 
us  away  in  our  desolation  unto  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  making  us 
fitter  for  life  and  fitter  for  immortality.  Then  let  the  grave 
stones  be  set  up,  here  and  there,  lest  we  lose  our  way  to 
heaven!  The  Mount  of  Crucifixion  and  the  Mount  of  Olives 
were  near  together.  The  hill  where  Christ  suffered  lay  over 
against  the  hill  from  which  he  ascended  to  his  throne.  So  it 
becomes  us,  when  we  are  called  upon  to  suffer,  to  find  and  walk 
in  that  divine  path  which  leads'from  Calvary  to  Olivet.  What  if 
our  sorrow  does  endure  for  the  night !  What  if  the  night  be 
long !  What  if,  though  we  turn  our  faces  patiently  towards 
the  East,  we  catch  no  more  than  the  signs  of  the  dawning! 
The  morning  will  break,  at  least  Yonder,  where  gladness 
shall  be  eternal;  where  darkness"  never  falls;  where  there  can 
be  no  night,  for  the  Lord  of  Light  is  there.  From  his  pres- 
ence all  shadows  vanish.  All  sighing  dies  away.  The  soul 
that  has  been  sorely  tempest-tossed,  shall  sail  there  on  the 
peaceful  sea,  the  sea  of  .glass  that  mirrors  no  frowning  sky, 
that  reflects  only  the  fathomless  azure  of  Infinite  Love.  Oh, 
the  morning  joy  of  that  shining  sea,  shining  shore,  shining, 
city,  shining  throne,  shining  glory  of  God  ! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 

252  55T157B  C001 

BACCALAUREATE  AND  OTHER  SERMONS  AND  ADDR 


30112025275733 


